Grief Science
by CornetHummy
Summary: "You can have whatever you want if you just wish for it." It's a tempting proposition, but it comes with consequences. Chell knows them well, but she may be the last hope of a divergent timeline. Portal/Madoka fusion AU. Humanized cores and GLaDOS, for a given measure of "human." Spoilers for Madoka Magica.
1. I know I'm a useless muddle but

Chapter 1: "I know I'm a useless muddle but..."

April

Mitakihara City, Japan

"What's with that look? Ultimately they were able to defeat it, after all."

Homura thought she was past the point of crying. She thought after all these dead ends she might finally be numb. No dark pillar loomed over the sky. The city was flooded by what news reports would no doubt describe as a disastrous storm, but there would still be a Mitakihara. Perhaps by the standards of some, this was not a bad end to reach.

"Still, it's a shame she died before I could Contract her. I doubt someone with that much potential power will come along in quite some time, possibly not in a thousand human lifespans." Kyubey perched on a hunk of concrete sticking out of the floodwaters, gazing down at Homura. She paid him no mind, instead focusing on the drowned body of a teenage girl.

She would memorize this sight, just as she did every failure. She would remember her mistakes in every timeline, even this odd divergent one, and not make them again.

"Humans are odd." Kyubey seemed unperturbed by Homura's silence. "Three Magi died to kill that Witch. If you had let her Contract, she might have been able to save them and defeat it herself. And wouldn't it have been fascinating to see what kind of Witch Madoka might have become? We could have filled our quota." He flicked his tail. "Well, no use in thinking about what might have been. I suppose I'll have to recruit more in order to replace the ones that were lost. You're always making more work for me, Akemi Homura. If I didn't know better..."

Homura stood and turned away from Kyubey, trudging through the waters.

"Hmm? Where is it you're going? You have more Witches to fight, I'm sure."

Her hand went to the disc on her wrist as the world dissolved away.

A world without Madoka was not worth saving.

* * *

November

Port Alta, PA, United States

The giggling wouldn't be so bad if he couldn't figure out what it was they found so funny.

Was it the accent? At first Wheatley had thought the strange affinity Americans seemed to have for British accents would bring him more positive attention, but surely giving a dry report about an American president wasn't made any more amusing by being from Bristol.

"Ah, yes, so as I was saying, the Harding presidency was marred by a series of scandals, most famously the Teapot Dome affair. It was named, if you'll believe it, after a teapot-shaped rock formation! Though that wasn't the point of contention. It was the..." Ah, drat, one of his notecards was out of order. "A moment, please!'

As he heard more quiet giggles and whispers from the class, Wheatley quietly cursed whoever decided oral reports were a good idea. If he had to witter on about a president, couldn't the teacher have assigned him one of the more well-known or well-loved ones? No, he got some unpopular prat famous for scandals.

"...Oil, yes. It had to do with drilling rights..." Wheatley knew he was coming across as an idiot as he stammered through his report. Nonetheless, he held his head high (as best he could while using notecards.) He'd worked hard on that report and he was quite proud of it.

"...And to this day, they're not quite sure why the old fellow died. Terribly tragic. I mean, aside from the scandals and all he really wasn't so bad! I think, didn't know him or anything, obviously..." He trailed off, glancing to the teacher for further information.

Sister Lewis had a notorious poker face. She differed from many other teachers in that she didn't redden, roll her eyes, or snort and cover her mouth when unimpressed. She just spoke quietly and smiled as kindly as ever, which in a way made it worse. "That was a fine presentation, Wheatley, but you were assigned to do a report on Chester A. Arthur."

"...Oh. Right, then." What else was there to say? He had to hope Sister Lewis was willing to grade on effort and accuracy over following directions. How did he make that mistake? He slunk back to his seat, steadily ignoring the giggles and for once thankful he usually sat in the back.

Couldn't they just have ignored his report like everyone else did? Did they all have to watch him like that, assuming he'd make some dreadful mistake? Why was it he was only the center of attention in unpleasant situations?

It was like that damned talent show last year. No one had really paid much attention to his (in his opinon [opinion]) rather stellar magic show routine until he'd failed to find the scarves he was supposed to pull from his hat. Oh, then it was a riot, wasn't it?

When he heard another snicker next to him, he looked to his left and down, glaring through his glasses. The redheaded boy next to him immediately shut up and turned back to his spiral notebook. Not that it was much help against the more persistent bullies, but Wheatley had to admit there were advantages to being a head taller than most of the other eighth graders. 'Johnsons even have productive genes,' Uncle Cave would brag, though the way he'd say it suggested there was more to the joke Wheatley didn't quite get.

As Mary C.'s report on Ulysses S. Grant faded into a buzz in the background he returned to his margin doodles. After this he'd walk home, hoping to beat those brewing dark clouds. He didn't like to think about anything past that, as long term plans always felt like so much work. Bad enough he'd had to stay up until 2 AM to finish that bloody report.

Certainly he couldn't concentrate on poor President Grant. His mind always wanted to focus on so many different things at once and almost none of them were the academic subject at hand. It'd be one thing if he were in Literature, or if the school offered a Drama class. There had been a poster in the hallway advertising tryouts for the school play. Wheatley had always been a but curious about the drama club, and there was a certain sense of romance in being able to pour his heart out on the stage in a performance that would reduce the student body to tears. But he kept hearing the laughter of classmates in his head, magnified a hundredfold into an entire auditorium full of mocking. He started to chew his pencil eraser, losing interest in doodling circles and eyes.

He turned to look out the classroom window and briefly glimpsed what looked like a flash of white fur on one of the tree branches. It was there and gone, moving too fast to be seen properly. Maybe it was a squirrel? Could the sighting of a rare albino squirrel be grounds to cut class early, lest such an unusual sight go missed by impressionable students? He was tempted to raise his hand and suggest it, but the bell was due to ring in five minutes anyway.

* * *

"Hey, Chell! I didn't see you at tryouts."

As always, Adrian hid any hints of disappointment with a smile. It only made Chell feel worse. She brushed a lock of brown hair from her face as she pulled her jacket out of her locker. "No time this year. Sorry." It was only partially a lie, and she hoped it sounded polite enough. It was nothing personal against Adrian or the team.

Adrian sighed. She was captain of the girl's indoor track team, and while she and Chell were not exactly close friends, they were at least on positive terms. "Man, we're gonna miss you. Last year we got THIS close to the state championships. But I know you gotta do what you think is best. Is it family stuff?"

Chell didn't know what look crossed her face when Adrian asked that question, but whatever it was prompted Adrian's smile to vanish in a wave of guilt.

"Oh, okay, I get it! I won't push," Adrian said as she picked up her gym bag. "Just kinda weird. I mean, we never see you anymore. You get some cooler friends to hang out with instead?"

Chell winced. She knew Adrian was just teasing, but it hit home. "Mmm..."

Adrian frowned. "So you don't wanna talk about it. Well, okay. I mean, if you do you can just shoot me a line or something. I'm not gonna judge."

There was no way Chell could tell Adrian about what had taken over her life, of course. She wouldn't want to, either. Chell had never been good with words, but she wasn't sure even a particularly articulate person could find a way to tell someone 'this is too dangerous to involve you. Just go back to whatever you were doing and forget I exist.' At least, there was no nice way to say that.

"Uh, if it's about your dad, my own mom-" Adrian stopped short when Chell held a hand up, much to Chell's relief. She didn't want to talk about that. "Right, I'll drop it."

"...Thanks." Chell felt awful having to brush off Adrian. Track had been her stress relief in the past, her way of channeling her energy into something that wasn't life-threatening. But she wasn't entirely lying about her excuse. There really wasn't time, and there were more pressing matters.

"And get some sleep, dammit. You look like a zombie." Adrian walked off, leaving Chell slipping her jacket on and checking her watch. As she did she took a glance at the iron ring around her finger, carefully examining the orange gem.

"Zombie, huh..." Despite everything, she just had to chuckle bitterly to herself and grab her bookbag. No one else called out to her in the hallway and that suited Chell just fine. Invisibility was a survival tactic in school. She was just going to have to walk home today, gloomy weather or none. As she stepped out into the schoolyard, Kyubey was standing on a railing, likely visible to no one but her. The little creature stared at her with his red eyes.

"Welcome back, Chell! Hurry, the Witch isn't too far!"

* * *

"Knew I should have brought an umbrella. I really shouldn't trust weather reports! I mean, I don't know where the umbrella is, but there has to be one. More than one, if Uncle brought one, yeah?" Wheatley mumbled to himself as he pulled his coat tighter around him. It wasn't quite raining yet, but fat grey clouds hung thick in the sky, and a chill gust turned the streets into wind tunnels. He dashed down the sidewalk as the bus pulled up to the stop two blocks away. "Oi oi! Come on, wait a minute! I can make it, mate, I can make it...!"

The bus clearly didn't hear Wheatley talking to himself and pulled away when Wheatley had but half a block to go. "Okay, fine. Walking is fine too. Good for you! They say it's great exercise. And therapeutic! I can...think while I'm walking. Hey, maybe it won't rain!"

Fat drops splashed against his mop of blond hair and glasses. "Or, you know, perhaps it will. That's grand. Rain is good too. Can't let all the plants not growing in the city in November go without watering, can we God?" Snow wouldn't have been so bad. Early snow meant a possibility of no school the next day. But much as he'd heard that parts of the United States had fairer weather than England, he wasn't impressed with the wet autumns of Port Alta.

A sharper chill ran down the street as Wheatley took off running for a store overhang. If he couldn't beat out the rain, perhaps he could wait it out. It wasn't as if anyone would care if he got home late. Uncle was the last person to scold anyone for coming home during the witching hour.

Finding shelter beneath the awning of an art supply store, he stopped to catch his breath and glare out at the general gloom surrounding him. Wouldn't his classmates find this whole mess amusing? "Probably laugh their bloody fool heads off," Wheatley muttered after blowing onto his hands for warmth. "Regular comedy of errors it's been this whole week. If we had money to speak of I guess I could call a cab..." The rain splashed him from the side, thanks to another blast of wind. "A pleasant 53 degrees Fahrenheit and sunny, eh, Weather Channel? Having a laugh at my expense? Well, joke's on you, because I use a program to block all of your ads and-..."

He realized he was speaking instead of thinking when a girl with brown hair hurrying past turned to stare at him for a moment. Wheatley felt his face go red and he mimicked holding a cell phone to his ear, hoping the girl wouldn't notice that his phone was actually in his pocket. That was a bad habit, letting his tongue run away when there wasn't anyone to hear it. If he had someone to vent to, that'd be a different matter.

And it would have been a girl his age too, wouldn't it? She wasn't wearing a uniform, meaning she probably went to the public school. Her pause lasted only a second and after resuming her dash she ran through puddles like it was a race. There was what at first looked to be a white cat running after her, though something was off about the body shape and ears.

The cat-thing stopped and turned to stare directly at Wheatley, red eyes boring into him.

"Do you want to know a secret? Come with me and I'll grant your wish."

That sent Wheatley almost stumbling back into the storefront window. He was sure he'd heard that voice echoing in his own brain, right before the white creature took off running. That was impossible, of course. His mind was playing tricks on him, no doubt due to the early stages of hypothermia. There was no logical reason to go running after a girl who probably wanted nothing to do with him and a nonexistent white cat in the rain.

There was no reason, and yet run after them both he did, though the girl never once turned around to acknowledge him. She probably didn't hear him at all.

* * *

"Is the Witch behind this weather?" Chell finally stopped to catch her breath as she arrived at a graffiti-covered brick wall, the ring on her finger pulsing a brilliant orange. "It's definitely here..."

"I don't think so. It's a strong one," Kyubey warned, "but not enough to affect atmospheric conditions. It's been active for a few hours already, but you were in school."

There was no reproachful tone in Kyubey's voice (it never had a tone at all) but Chell still got the impression he was trying to imply something. "I can't cut class. Not...anymore."

"Mm, of course. Nonetheless, hurry up and transform before you enter."

Chell waved a hand over the ring as it transformed into an egg-shaped gem marked with swirling gold rings. She let its power wash over her, orange and blue circles of light filling her body with power. In the next moment she wore an orange gown over white leggings with a thick orange belt. In her hand she held her weapon, an ornately-decorated white and black gun that crackled with energy.

She looked back and forth first, in case anyone else had spotted her. The last thing she needed was a fight with the Court over a Grief Seed. When it seemed the coast was clear, she held her hand up to the wall, passing through a swirling circular gate and vanishing from view.

When Kyubey didn't immediately follow, she couldn't say she was terribly surprised. Even he knew Chell fought best alone.

* * *

"So you did come!"

Wheatley emerged from behind a dumpster, soaked to the bone and wondering how the white creature still looked fluffy and dry. "You...talk? But you're not moving your mouth, mate. I mean it, whoever's doing your puppetry is doing a lovely job hiding the strings, but the mouth movement is a clear giveaway." He looked around up towards the tops of the buildings. "Is this a movie set? Did I just wander onto something like that? Spectacular special effects and-and honestly I just assumed they added things like that with computers afterwards! Do they sell clothes that just change and glow like that? Are they always so...uh, frilly? Nothing wrong with frilly of course. Looked good on her-uh, flattering really. Anyway, if I've wandered onto a movie set just let me know because I'd like to try out and-and this isn't a movie set, is it? Okay, so then WHAT WAS THAT?!" With no one else apparently around, Wheatley panicked to the little furry thing. "There were orange lights and flashes and you TALK and who WAS she, mate? What is all this?"

Kyubey just shook his head. "Calm down, Wheatley Elliot Johnson." Wheatley could not recall telling this thing his name. "Do you want to see who she is? Are you curious?"

"I want to know a lot of things," Wheatley admitted after a sneeze. "First of all, mate, what are you?"

"Kyubey."

"A kyubey, alright." That didn't help at all, but since Wheatley had no idea what a 'kyubey' was, he had to take the thing's word for it that it was a kyubey. "Okay, I'm calm now. It's cool, it's fine, I'm calm. Just...evaluating a new situation, that's all."

"Naturally. I don't let just anyone see me." Kyubey walked in a slow circle around Wheatley. "What you need to know right now is that I recruit magical girls and boys, and I can grant wishes."

"Magical...what? Pardon?" Wheatley picked up Kyubey and gave him a gentle poke in the stomach, feeling for electronics. "You sure you're not a prank, mate?"

Kyubey shook his head. "It doesn't benefit me to prank you, Wheatley. But humans are always like this. They don't believe me until they see the truth for themselves. Will you follow me?"

"Follow you? Where precisely? There's just a brick wall and-HEY!" Kyubey had not waited for Wheatley, wriggling out of the boy's arms as if the thing had no bones at all and merely dashing through a swirling hole in the wall. Now that Wheatley looked, he could see something glowing there, an abstract figure holding arms aloft and opening its mouth wide in what might have been song or screaming. There was no one else in the alley. If Wheatley had collapsed from hypothermia or fever outside of the store and was hallucinating all of this, he reasoned there was nothing he could do about it mid-hallucination.

"Wait, wait! Wait for me, will you?!" He took a deep breath and ran through the gate.

* * *

"Okay, I am definitely hallucinating. It's okay." Wheatley held his head and took deep breaths. "I can snap myself out of this! Even breathing. Like-like some kind of yogi. I have remarkable self-control, so if I can just wake up..."

He wanted to wake up because what he was experiencing was no doubt a nightmare. The buildings extended up infinitely into a purple sky, spiraling into oblivion, and tall purple grass grew up to his knees in what should have been an alleyway. He could see the curve of a horizon if he looked far enough in this hideous violet field, as if he were standing on a hill, but beyond it was nothing but a foggy void.

What made it worse was the singing. There was a terrible mournful tune ringing through the hills and even covering his ears didn't block it out. It was discordant, following one key and then another, changing its melody all the time. It wasn't being sung so much as screamed and sobbed by the strange, bellowing voice.

"Okay! Okay, uh, Cube or whatever your name is! Little bunny thing, I...I changed my mind. I very much do NOT want to know what's going on with you or any of this. So if you could take me back, that'd be lovely!" He spun around, but Kyubey was nowhere in sight. "Did you hear me, mate? Take me out! Just point and lead the way, I'll walk out and pretend I never saw you. Won't tell it as a spooky story or anything. Just let me out..."

"Look over there." Kyubey's voice beckoned in Wheatley's mind and he turned behind him, in the direction of strange flashing orange lights.

A monster loomed, the shadow of a tree with a terrible face painted on it, a frown with a wide-open violet mouth. There were curious bell-shaped objects on the tree's branches. That thing must have been the source of the singing, interrupted by off-key bell noises. It was swatting at something small, but Wheatley was too far away to see what it was.

"If you run in the opposite direction, you'll escape the Labyrinth. But that isn't why you followed, is it? You don't really want to run away from something spectacular, do you?"

Wheatley couldn't run in one direction or the other. His feet felt planted into the ground, even as the blades of grass sprouted up and pulled painfully at his legs. "Is it...is it trying to eat me? It's trying to eat me, mate! The ground, I mean! The ground should never do that! Make it stop!"

"Is that what you wish?"

"Y-what is it with you and wishes!? You are terrible at explaining things!"

"Wishes are everything. Wish for it and you can have whatever you want. If you think you're smart enough to see what's beyond..."

"...Smart enough? I...I'd like to think so...!" No, he'd gotten this far, [uc] into wherever this was. Outside of this strange place was nothing but a cold, rainy day with months more to follow. Leaving meant another boring and lonely evening in an empty flat eating leftovers and studying materials he didn't care about for a school he hated in a city that barely knew he existed. At least that monster was honest in its presumed desire to eat him. He didn't have to constantly read its expression to see if it was hiding irritation with him.

And hadn't there been a girl with Kyubey, too?

"I'm not...I'm not a loser! Or a coward! Or whatever-whatever else they think I am!" He strained against the violet grass tendrils, pulling against them and bracing his feet against the ground. The tendrils had razor-sharp edges, tearing at his jeans and cutting into his skin as he pulled away, but he ignored the pain and just broke into a sprint. He couldn't run away, not before he saw the girl fighting the monster. It'd be like falling into Wonderland and leaving right away.

* * *

"It's just one Witch." Chell usually made short work of Witches of this type. It was the noise the Opera Witch was making throwing her off. It was messing with her concentration, the wailing and ringing filling her ears and leaving her head throbbing.

She steeled her nerves, aimed and concentrated as balls of light streaked through the air, one to her left and another above the monster. Both left shimmering holes into nothingness where the shots landed, orange and blue portals between space. Never in a million years would she figure out how THAT wish had led to THAT magic, but she wasn't going to question its usefulness in the middle of a fight. Knowing the portals might not last long, she aimed her gun through the hole on her left, firing shots of light magic through and watching as they pelted the monster from above. One lucky shot knocked off two of the bells, and the Witch screeched in pain, swinging a branch-arm at Chell. It had a remarkably long reach, probably due to its stretchy shape.

Leaping high up, she opened two new portals so she'd fall in one and out of another, landing on the other side of the Witch. She landed facing away from it just for a moment, which is when she saw a humanoid figure running towards her. It was a boy, she saw as he approached, and he was not doing the sensible thing; namely fleeing from the Witch. There was something slightly familiar about him but she just couldn't place it.

"What-what are you doing?! Get away!" She turned away from him, having no time to run and grab him herself. If he was still moving and conscious, he wasn't the Witch's target at least, but there was no way a normal human would survive a Labyrinth. "Go!" She glared over her shoulder at him before firing two more shots directly at the Witch.

The presence of a little white flash running under her feet made the situation clear. "Kyubey." She glared down at the creature. So that's what he was doing. He was going to force that stupid boy's hand.

"If someone is meant to Contract, they're going to Contract," Kyubey insisted. "Worry about the Witch."

Sure enough, Chell had paused too long, and something hard as wood barreled into her, sending her flying and sprawling onto the ground. She rolled to climb back up, ignoring the searing pain running through her side. "I can do this, Kyubey," she hissed at the little creature. "Tell him to run..."

* * *

Kyubey leaped back to Wheatley, who was doubled over panting from exhaustion and fear. "She's in trouble," he said in a voice eerily lacking in concern. "Of course, she can win that battle. If you're the type to sit back and watch someone else fight for you."

Wheatley barely registered Kyubey's words. He was too busy watching Chell. Her jumps were strong and graceful, reaching heights that suggested flight. The look in her eyes, when she briefly called to him and shouted something he couldn't hear, was razor-sharp and hawklike. And she was beautiful, really uncannily so, the way her strange dress fell around her and the way her ornate gun shined in the violet-green light. She was in a different class entirely from anyone he'd ever seen at his school.

She was remarkable. No, more than that, she was special. Wheatley had always known on some level that there was something special about certain other people, something uncanny and indescribable about a group of individuals that did not include him. They spoke with confidence in class instead of stammering through reports. They seemed to score high on tests without struggling. They were pretty, or brave, or smart, or all of the above and didn't even seem to realize it, adding modesty to their virtues. He was certain people like him existed for their sakes, so they'd have someone to save. Stars had to shine in comparison to something else, after all.

And yet, when he looked at the girl in the orange dress, the jealousy he usually felt in the presence of such people was drowned out. She was like one of those shining stars, bringing hope to this nonsensical nightmare world. His fear dwindled when he watched her. And yet, she was limping, wasn't she? She was bleeding, and that thing was huge...

"What is that, mate? Who is she? What is-"

"She's a magical girl, a Puella Magi. Against a Witch like that, she is the only hope there is. But you could be remarkable, too."

"No I can't!" Wheatley took a great step back, staring down at Kyubey. "Look, I know this about myself. I can't! There are people who go on to do remarkable things and I don't even DREAM of them. This-whatever this is, it's beyond remarkable and it's just not something people like me DO. I mean...I can't..."

He watched the 'magical girl' again. She landed roughly on her leg and he saw her wince, but it didn't seem to slow her down. "That's really magic? Really magic she's using, mate? As in..."

"Magic and wishes both exist. I can perform miracles for you and give you the power of miracles yourself..."

She turned to Wheatley and again shouted something lost in the ringing of the bells. Her hair floated around her face. "She's speaking to me! What's she saying? Oh, if she's speaking to me, do you think she cares about me? Do you think someone like her would give me the time of day?"

* * *

"Go! Just GO!" Why wasn't he listening? Couldn't he hear?

Another shrill scream pierced the air; Chell covered her eyes and cursed to herself. Of course, he probably couldn't hear anything. The faster she killed this Witch, the better. It was just one Witch! She'd fought countless others before without partners.

The boy. That was it. Kyubey knew this would distract her, worrying about a bystander he brought in. She'd just have to get him to flee and either explain afterwards what was going on, or more likely hope he figured it was a nightmare. A regular kid drawn into a Labyrinth had no chance of surviving without a Magi protector.

Well, she was a magical girl, and she would protect him. That was her job. She held up her hand, opening just one portal to the strange subspace her magic could access and frantically urging him to run in. It'd use up some of her magic, but if he hid in there he'd at least be safe from the Witch. She'd worry about the rest later.

"Go...!"

* * *

Wheatley stumbled back when a hole opened up in the air, its surface shimmering and displaying nothing but a void. He turned to Kyubey. "What is that, mate? Oh, did she make that for me? She...she wants me to hide, doesn't she? Hide behind it." It was a flat surface, after all. "It means she doesn't want me to get killed by that thing! So she does care, right? I mean, probably thinking 'what's this git with the glasses doing here?' but she cares...!"

Frankly the temptation to run and hide behind what had to be a shield of some kind was strong. Still, he took a deep breath and tried to call to her, certain his voice would be drowned out as hers was. "Look, I appreciate it! I really do! But I can't really go back now, you know? It would just be too...I don't know how to describe this, Lady! Lady? I'm sorry, I don't know your name...! But I want to help you!"

"Is that your Wish?"

Kyubey's voice startled him. "'Scuse me, my what?"

"Wish. If you make a Wish, you can Contract with me and become like her."

"...Ohhh. I see! I get it now, mate! Okay! Yes, I wish for-no, not that. Or-no! I-if my parents would-no, you probably can't...really, anything?!" How unfair of Kyubey to ask Wheatley something like that in such a stressful situation. "Really there's a LOT of things I want but I suppose asking for all of them at once won't count...her! I mean...no, not I WANT HER, that would be creepy, but...she cared about me and wanted to save me and she's...oh, forget it!" He shook his head, trying hard to organize the jumble of thoughts into a coherent sentence. "I want to be the sort of person who could be important to her! Okay? I know I'm a worthless muddle but I don't want to be anymore. Alright? That Wish enough?...Hey, uh. What-what are you doing, mate?"

He took a step back again as Kyubey's ears seem to stretch towards him like ears, and felt an unsettling, burning heat inside of his chest. "What are you doing...?!"

* * *

The eyes were the weakpoint. It was the strange eyes peeking out of the Opera Witch's trunk. Hitting them seemed to hurt it more. A few more shots and she'd have it...

"Okay! Alright, I think I've got the handle on this! Kyubey didn't tell me how to do, um, anything. Does he often do that?!"

Chell blinked and turned to stare at the source of the voice in horror. The boy had rushed in, stumbling over his own feet, clad in a frilly blue tuxedo lined with white and silver. A round pocket watch-like jewel was clipped to his waist, and she immediately recognized it from its bright blue glow. Oh, he didn't...

"What? Why are you looking at me like that? Aren't you happy to see me? I mean, this is fantastic! It feels great! Nothing hurts anymore. And I'm all smartly dressed! Bit of a Victorian touch, yeah? I mean not sure why we're dressed like this but that's a side note. And-and look at what I can do!" He opened his hand and a round blue crystal appeared, hovering over him. It shimmered and glowed as he shot a wave of liquid crystal from his hands, which proceeded to really do nothing as far as she could tell. "Okay, um, still working on that. Got a few kinks to work out, yeah? But still! We're partners now, aren't we?"

She said nothing, reminding herself to worry about it later. In the meantime she could at least direct the newbie so he didn't get himself immediately killed. Shutting the portal she was going to use to hide him, she opened two more, one right in front of him and another over the Witch. She pointed at that one, and then at his hand.

"What? Oh...oh, I get it now! In here, right? Alright, let's see what that does..." This time, when he shot the wave of crystal it flew right through the two Portals, raining down on the Witch and coating it in what looked like blue glass. This slowed the Witch down, and it screamed in protest, causing both Magi to wince in pain.

"OW OW OW oh, oh I see now! That's brilliant! Yes, teamwork, right?" The boy wasn't dissuaded even if he looked a bit frazzled from the Witch's voice attack, and tried another shower of blue crystal through the portal. In truth, Chell knew she didn't need it. Slowing the Witch down like that was just a bonus. But keeping him distracted meant he was less likely to get in her way.

Weighed down by the crystal growing around it, the Opera Witch was a sitting duck. She fired off two shots directly from her gun, and the blasts of glimmering light struck the blinking eyes. With one last awful, melancholy scream that left Chell dizzy and nauseous, the Witch shattered and crumbled into nothing and the Labyrinth dissolved. It left behind a black jewel wreathed in fine metal. Chell expected the new Magi to dive for it before realizing he had no idea what it was.

In fact, he was paying it no heed, gazing at her instead. "That was fantastic, wasn't it? Oh you were good, of course. I was good! We were both good! We both fight really well and I, for one, think we ought to do it again, next time we have to fight a...uh, he called it a Witch, didn't he? Didn't see a broom or a hat but I suppose that's what it is if that's what he calls it. What is he, anyway? What are we? I'm sorry to bombard you with questions like this but he didn't tell me anything..."

Of course Kyubey didn't tell him anything. Kyubey never did. Chell was too tired to answer any questions herself, instead forcing his hand open. She called her own Soul Gem into her hand, it manifesting as an egg-shaped orange crystal swimming with liquid light. To her relief, he did the same, making a puzzled noise as she held the Grief Seed to it and drained the faint shadows away. There, she thought, at least she'd shown him that.

A little voice told her that maybe she owed him a bit more, considering what he'd done, but she hadn't asked him to do it.

Letting her own transformation revert, she sighed and picked up her bookbag from where she'd stashed it behind the dumpster. When she looked back at the boy, he was still staring at her like an eager puppy. God, he was so happy about what he'd done. Compared to the scared and confused kid he seemed to be in the Labyrinth, he was beaming and grinning like a fool.

"You see what I did back there, though? Oh, that-that thing you just did. Is that common? Is that maintenance? Listen, Kyubey will tell me more about this later, right? Is there a-a manual? But I mean, I don't regret it! I'll never regret something like this. I did it because I couldn't rightly just let you fight by yourself, right? Would have been cowardly of me and I'm not a coward. It feels amazing. How can you hide a secret like this? I'm going to have to bite my lip to keep from blurting-oh of course I won't tell! Promise, won't tell! Our weird little secret, right...?"

She stared at him for a long moment, dread swimming in her stomach. He'd done it for her. She thought she was done with this. 'No more partners,' she wanted to say, but she didn't have the energy. She had to get her thoughts together.

"You shouldn't have," she blurted out without thinking. Immediately she scolded herself. She was usually better about keeping her thoughts to herself.

Her would-be 'partner' stared and blinked in confusion, the smile not wavering. "Oh, of course I had to! I mean, I didn't have to. No one holding a gun to my head or anything. But I wanted to! I mean, it's a lot of fun when you're actually strong enough to stand a chance..."

"No." She didn't look away. There was no way to dissuade him now, but at the least she could keep him from getting tangled in her unpleasant affairs. "You shouldn't have."

She didn't wait to hear his response as she turned and walked back out into rainy street. It might have been cold, but best he learn it from her first. If experience had taught Chell anything, it was that they were both much safer on their own.

* * *

_End Notes_

_So! This is actually a major revision of a long fanfic I started posting last year on Tumblr. I started writing it on a whim and it turned into a thing. After a while, I decided to expand and rewrite it, and that's what I'm going to be posting here. I'm also crossposting it to AO3. (Yes, I'm the same CornetHummy.)_  
_As you've probably picked up, this is an AU both for Madoka Magica (note the presence of magical boys) and for Portal. I've decided to explain this with multiverse theory and handwave it from there. It is what it is. _  
_My personal headcanon was that Homura didn't just overwrite events when she traveled back in time, but created innumerable separate timelines. Those timelines kept ticking along in cases where Madoka never went Witch. So here we are._  
_And yes, Port Alta is a fictional city. It's also a really bad pun. (It was originally Port Alto until a google search revealed there to be a real town in Texas by that name.)_  
_Anyway, I'll (ideally) be posting chapters in weekly installments. I hope you enjoy!_  
_-Cornet_


	2. That was bound to happen again

"At 8:34 PM on Tuesday, a Familiar was killed before it could spawn a Witch. We suspect-"

"Chell, I know." The white-haired young woman tapped the keyboard with swift, spindly fingers without looking up at her scout. "You don't even need to say it anymore."

"Yes, my Queen."

"You don't need to say that either, unless I feel like it." There was a pause in the air, and the girl peered up over her laptop. "I didn't say 'stop giving the report.' Keep going."

"Yes, m-yes. Uh, Christopher is out of commission."

"Really? That's a shame, I figure he would have lasted longer." She stretched out, setting the laptop aside for a moment and flexing her feet on the bed. It was nice to spend time in a hotel room, and it just took the right amount of hacking to ensure the hotel staff knew she was staying with her mother. Certainly a young girl wouldn't be in the hotel room by herself. "Anything else?"

"High chances of a Witch manifesting tonight." Alex, her scout, shifted from one foot to the other, as if waiting for permission for something.

She just ran a hand through her bangs and sighed. "It's not your turn tonight. Sorry, but I'm nothing if not fair."

That seemed to disappoint Alex, who slumped his bony shoulders and rubbed the bridge of his nose, but quickly regained his soldier-like composure. It seemed all show to her, but if that's how he wanted to act she wouldn't nitpick. "Anything else?"

"There's a new recruit."

"Oh? Hmm." She pulled up the laptop again. That at least presented a momentary challenge, or at least the illusion of one. "Who are they?"

"It's a he. I saw him with...Chell."

She blinked, and then stifled a chuckle. "Oh, of course. Naturally that was bound to happen again. Did you catch a name?"

"Wheatley...something or other."

She snorted, sitting cross-legged on the bed with the computer in her lap. "How unwieldy. His parents must have hated him. Still, can't be too many of those. I can run a search on him." Any excuse to antagonize her rival brightened her day.

"Also, we think the oracle-"

"I'm bored with this now. Get me a hot chocolate from downstairs." She reached over into her purse and pulled out a few wrinkled dollars which she shoved into Alex's hand. "And next time, if any news involves Her, tell me about it first right away."

He bowed, another gesture which earned an eyeroll from her. "If I might ask, My Qu-Uh, Glados, why are we so worried about her? You said with her attitude, she'll be lucky if she lasts-"

"Hot chocolate." She pointed at the door, snapping. "It's not going to get itself while you probe into my affairs."

"...Yes, Glados." He turned around and left, and she sighed in relief, freed from his monotonous drone. Fresh recruits were always interesting. There were information searches to run, school files to hack, statistical research to run based on the data she could find. Her findings were rarely inaccurate.

After all, she was a scientist.

* * *

_Hey, sport! Meeting's running late. I got a good feeling about this one! Sorry I won't be back until late again. There's leftover lasagna in the fridge from a conference lunch. _  
_-Uncle Cave_

Wheatley was sure his uncle had used the exact same note before, except he'd written 'lasagna' instead of 'half a panini' or whatever else had been there. He'd gotten used to coming home to an empty apartment in the lower-rent area of the theater district. At least he finally had his own room, now that Cave had cleared out what the would-be businessman had called his second study. 'Cleared out' was perhaps a generous term, as while he had a bed and desk, half of his closet was still full of storage bins loaded with miscellaneous paperwork.

His uncle just wasn't used to having someone else around, that's all. The schedule of a man trying to start a business was one of meetings with bankers and potential financers. Cave was married to science and parent to science, with no expectation of being saddled with a foreign teenage nephew. Wheatley tried not to take it personally.  
Instead, he sat on his bed and told the walls about whatever kind of day he'd had, as if his uncle was home listening at the dinner table. It was therapeutic in a way. Saying something out loud kept him from dwelling on it inside, where it might rot and fester like an infection. Usually he'd be telling the walls about plays he forgot to try out for, or classmates making fun of his accent because they were jealous, or about all the girls he was going to ask out someday. Today's story was a bit more interesting, and he would have thought it all some kind of waking dream, if it weren't for the way the blue egg shimmered and cast light around his room as it sat on his desk.

"And you know, I thought to myself, 'she could really use some help!' And being a gentleman and all, well, I decided to give it a try! The wish was a second thought, really, not important all. And you know what? I did really well, too! Oh, sure I need some target practice, but her and me, we make a good team! I mean, she walked away afterwards, but I'm sure she's just a little shy, aren't we all sometimes? Or you know, I tend to loom and we were both rather exhausted. In fact I still feel a mite drowsy, may go to bed early after I finish that essay…" The nice thing about walls was how they didn't roll their eyes and walk away no matter how much he had to say. At the same time, telling the story aloud, even the version he wished had been the case, somehow made it more real.

"Though I am a little put off by how she just walked away. Is this some kind of rite of passage thing? She leaves me on my own and so does the little fluffy thing. No instructions or anything. Did she just not want my help? And I mean, I don't know what I've gotten myself into, but…" But what? He found the words drying up as he stared into the glow of that gem, bubbling with some kind of liquid. "Guess I'd better find a safe place for you, shouldn't I, then…?"

He didn't see any shadows, not really. Maybe a little smudge swimming around there, but it was probably nothing. Besides, what was he to do about it now? "Sure, maybe I should have wished for Uncle's business to thrive so he'd be home more often, or maybe I could have even brought my parents back to life, or wished to be stronger, or...a little less gawky, maybe some muscle definition would have been nice...or having some money around once in a while...but! No regrets, right?" He rolled over onto his stomach on the bed, propping his dinner on a pillow as he ate it. "Kyubey's fault anyway, asking me and pressuring me like that. But she's...really, really cute, and well, that's...I mean it's not a BAD wish. Is it?"

He looked outside the window. It was dark and likely cold, but the rain had let up. Surely he could go for one more hunt and come back before midnight. Would Cave even know he was out late? And who was he to argue with Wheatley about going out at night? "Practice it is! Makes sense, no way to improve otherwise. And really, that way next time I can make sure she knows I won't be a burden! 'Oh, me? Not much, just killed another Witch. By myself. As a newbie. Nothing special.'" He mimicked polishing his nails on his shirt and making a nonchalant face before realizing he had no audience for it, and sighed. "Well, better get my coat. Last thing I need now is a cold…"

* * *

"Chell, is everything alright? Are you sure?" A woman with brown-black hair tied in a French braid frowned as she looked at her daughter's plate, barely touched.

Chell stirred the green beans with her fork. "It's fine. Sorry, Mom, just, you know. Rough day at school." The savory smell of chicken parmesan failed to revive her appetite. "It's no big deal, Mom, really." She managed to make herself eat at least a bit, working through the numb feeling that followed a Witch fight.

There was a third place set at the table again, empty as usual. Old habits died hard. On the little kitchen TV, a man confessed his love to a woman, half of his sappy dialogue cut out by Sophie's meowing.

Marie scowled and rubbed the back of Oreo's neck. "You already ate, fat old thing." Sophie rubbed her head against Marie's hand and made a gutteral purring sound. She looked down from the counter at Chell with big green eyes framed by white fur.

Behind her, in the window, another pair of animal eyes peered out at Chell.

"I'm actually not feeling so great," she half-lied with an apologetic little smile. "I'll wrap this up and eat it later if my stomach stops bothering me. Sorry, Mom." She stood up to take her plate to the counter, wrapped it in plastic and stuck it in the fridge, and gave her mom a kiss on the cheek before retreating to bed. "I'll see you later, Mom, okay?"

"Are you sure? Abuela's coming over." A thin, sad smile crossed Marie's face, and she sat back down at the kitchen table. "You'll at least come out to say hello to her, right?"

Chell nodded slowly. "It's just…" Words clogged like cotton in Chell's throat, and Marie took her hand.

"It's fine. It's rough on you too, isn't it?" Marie gave Chell a gentle hug. "The holidays are terrible when things like this happen. But we don't need him, right? We'll have a nice winter without him. Best revenge is living well. Just don't hide away in your room too much, or you'll miss it." She kissed Chell's cheek. That made it even worse, the perfectly reasonable explanation for everything. "If something's wrong, you'll tell me, right?"

"Of course I will, Mom." Forcing her smile, she moved to retreat back into her room.

Her room was a messy affair on her better days, with her hand-me-down sewing machine sitting in the corner silently guilt-tripping Chell for its lack of recent use and heaps of fabric strips here and there. She nearly missed stepping on a spool of green thread. Her books were strewn across her bed, the way she liked them. And as she half-expected, there was Kyubey, sitting on her copy of _As I Lay Dying._

"I understand why you're mad at me." Of course he didn't, no matter what he said. She'd long since given up trying to argue with him; it just brought headaches. "You would prefer to work alone. And given your powerset, you're quite suited for-"

Chell tossed a pillow in his face and pulled the book out from beneath him. She was behind in her reading.

"That was rude! Anyway, he Contracted of his own will. Whether or not you influenced his decision doesn't really matter in the long term, does it? He was vulnerable to Contracting, and would have made a wish one way or another. I can always tell."

William Faulkner was not doing a very good job of distracting her from Kyubey. She grit her teeth and turned the page as loudly as she could without tearing it.

"Believe me, I wouldn't Contract anyone who didn't have at least some potential. And why not use one of my best local magical girls as a positive example?"

"You use me," she spat out, but there was no response. Sure enough, as she peered over the edge of her book, she found the bed empty of all but assorted workbooks and pens.

She felt a buzz against her pocket and pulled out her cell phone, frowning. She wasn't going to read it. She was just going to delete it, and...

_So I heard you lured another sap into Contracting so you can get them killed. Congrats. –G_

Yes, it was her. Of course it was her. If it wasn't a text message, it was email. If it wasn't email, it was a scrawled note in her locker. For someone who spent an awful lot of time holed up in various hiding places, Glados got around.

Chell stuffed the phone in her pocket, but it chimed again. Four pages of Faulkner went by before morbid curiosity won.

_Really though, I looked up his school records. You're not exactly robbing the world of a Rhodes scholar here. I can see him having a good future after securing a Bachelor's of Science in Mediocrity. Not like Caro-_

She deleted the message as quickly as she could, even as another came in. Glados had lightning-fast fingers.

_Remember when my best magical girl teamed up with you and Rita and you got her killed? I just thought I'd remind you of that. She was a real loss to the world. Caused by you._

Deleted. Chell shut off the phone and left it on the nightstand, curling up on her bed. She slowly reached for her backpack to pull out her algebra and history notebooks. The last thing Chell needed to do was to miss more homework assignments because of her.

* * *

"Practice, right..." Wheatley was already starting to regret sneaking out. Of course, it could hardly be called sneaking out if no one was there to see him leave. Sure enough, the rain had been the sign of a cold front, and he pulled his jacket tightly around him, breathing on his free hand for warmth. The other held his Soul Gem, glowing blue and serving as a flashlight of sorts. It was egg-shaped just like Chell's, but while hers had been marked by vertical curves of metal, his was decorated with horizontal rings.

"So, are they all different, these things?" Wheatley had to admit he was glad when he noticed Kyubey following him again. There was something a little odd about the creature, but he was company and actually knew something about the situation. "I mean, are they like our thumbprints? What happens if I lose it, can I get a replacement?"

"I would strongly suggest against misplacing it," Kyubey said, trotting after Wheatley until the boy reached down and set the creature on his shoulder.

"I wasn't planning on it! This is what marks the new me, after all. The new me who does interesting things like fight...whatever those are. And save people. And...oh bloody hell, someone's coming! Um, hide in my...you won't fit in my hood, will you?"

Kyubey stood his ground. "They can't see me, remember?"

Wheatley relented, covering his Gem with one hand and hoping it would pass for some kind of light. He avoided the gaze of the person lurching past him, a middle-aged man in a torn suit who barely seemed to see Wheatley. "Huh. Must be drunk. And in the middle of the week! Shameful, shameful..."

When there was no response, he reached behidn him and realized Kyubey had vanished again. "Man alive, that little thing! Really doesn't like to stick around, does he? What's he got to do that's so important now, eh?" He politely stepped around the swaying man, giving a little salute. "Careful there, mate! Lots of weirdos out at this hour. Go get a drink of water or something, yeah?" He would have led the man to a police station, he supposed, but the Gem was blinking in a way that suggested radar. There were monsters to fight.

* * *

Moments after Wheatley had run off, something emerald green streaked past the chilly road, too quick to be seen. It scooped up the man seconds before he would have thrown himself into the pit dug by the construction crew.

"Dammit, man," Rita Park muttered as she set the man down against a wall, having stunned him out of his trance and into unconsciousness. "This is the second time this week we had to bail your ass. Go watch a happy show or something. Get out more." The cops would pick him up and assume he was under the influence, and he'd probably believe it too.

"Couldn'ta saved someone hot this time, huh." She dusted off her hands on her green Puella Magi dress and adjusted the wide-brimmed hat that came with it. "No, it's 'unshaven middle aged guy' day. Eugh, he smells like aftershave. And now that idiot newbie's gonna get there first."

"Didn't you say you were giving him a head start?" A cheerful voice piped up behind Rita, and a yellow-haired girl in a pink jester outfit perched on one foot. "Is that what you're doing here?"

"Nah, here I'm just savin' the innocent." Rita grinned and tipped her hat at Alice. "Now I'm givin' the dumbass a head start. Let's see..." She tapped her foot for a few seconds. "Okay, headstart over. Let's get ourselves a Witch!" Grabbing Alice's hand, Rita took off again, faster than anyone should be able to do so.

She couldn't help but 'buzz' Wheatley along the way, sending the boy spinning before he even knew what had hit him.

* * *

Wheatley thought at first he'd been hit by a car, but he wasn't in a terrible amount of pain and he hadn't seen any cars passing. They were on a relatively quiet back street. Then he wondered if he'd been mugged by a very speedy assailant, but upon climbing back to his feet he realized everything was in place.

"Well, it must have been a very rude person on a bicycle," he mused.

* * *

"What do you think it tastes like? Can I eat it?"

Rita made a gagging sound as she swung from one birthday candle to another, landing in a puddle of frosting. "Sure, you wanna eat a chunk of Witch? Be my guest. Me? I just wanna blast it to kingdom come." She lifted her green-booted foot and shook it. "And I never wanna see black forest cake again."

The Witch, whatever it was, clearly liked cake. Its Labyrinth was centered around a tower of chocolate cake studded with walnuts and oozing cherry filling that looked a bit too much like blood. Rita hated Labyrinths that looked like food. A Witch had already ruined soup for her once, and after facing a certain Familiar she never wanted to look at apples again. It was like running through mud up that spiraling tower, though Rita's speed and chain whip made the job a little easier. Alice was just jumping from outcropping to outcropping, occasionally tossing her giant boomerang at anything in her way.

The Familiars chasing them were cockroaches, of all things. "So this is what, the Witch of not keepin' your kitchen clean." Rita snorted as she encountered a wall of the clicking, hissing things, each slightly larger than herself, and summoned her whip again as it crackled with green lightning.

"Come on, you know you wanna! Take on the Adventure Girl. I live for this."

"Okay. Never...want to look at cake again. Going to...associate it with cockroaches. Bad association to make with desserts." Wheatley pulled himself up to the top of the cake 'tower,' bruised, battered and dripping cherry goop in his hair. He'd managed to trap a few cockroach Familars with his crystal, but he'd decided it was most effective to hide from as many as possible and sneak by when he could manage it. Sometimes this method even worked.

"Fine, sure, but you're the Witch, yeah? That's you? Not...exactly what I expected, I admit..." It was a lot smaller than the tree-Witch had been, a tall candle dripping hot, bubbling wax all over the cake and peering out at him with an eye in its flame. It made a sputtering sound like sparks before lunging right for the nearest target, which was naturally him. That was when Wheatley realized he didn't exactly have a plan for fighting a Witch alone.

"Crystal stuff, come on, crystal stuff! Do that-that thing you did before! Is there a magic word? There wasn't before! Come on! Got to be something!" He held out his hands, but nothing happened, as the Witch leaned its spindly body at him and slammed into him with brute force, sending the boy rolling across the top of the tower and nearly falling off. He held onto the edge with whatever grip he had left, about to haul himself back up when a flash of green blinded his vision.

"Whatsa matter, buddy, BURN OUT?" The voice was loud and brash, clearly female, with a Texan accent that sounded just a touch exaggerated. As Wheatley pulled himself back up onto the platform, he saw a dark-haired, Asian magical girl in green standing right in front of the Witch, lightning crackling around her. Her outfit suggested a ballerina, save for the rather out-of-place cowboy boots and wide-brimmed hat.

"Nah, that's not quite right. How about, 'Partin' is such SWEET sorrow?' Yeah, that's what I'll say when I finish this one off. Or, 'Hasta la PASTRY, baby. Or-" The Witch bore down on the green cowgirl, but with a strange blur of movement she was standing just to the right of it, laughing. "That's right! Can't catch me, can ya? Bet ya wish you had arms now. Hey, Alice!"

On cue, a huge boomerang cut into the side of the Witch, slicing out a chunk of its wax body. It started to melt into itself as another magical girl, this one pale, blond and clad in pink, caught the boomerang with one hand and landed next to her apparent partner. "Are you really that worried about a catchphrase, Rita?"

"What good's a fight without a catchphrase? You ever see an action movie where they're all business and no talk? No, cuz that's BORING." Rita took off again, dashing with incredible speed up the body of the Witch, producing a green chain-whip around her which she brought down right through the body of her prey as she landed, splitting it neatly in half. That seemed to do the trick, as the Witch spewed wax in protest before its flame went out and the Labyrinth itself vanished with the smell of burnt sugar.

"That...that's my Witch," Wheatley protested, though he doubt they heard him and he didn't have the energy to move against them. He realized he was technically still on his hands and knees, and stood up, dusting himself off and turning red. "I mean, it was my Witch."

Rita eyed him for a second, and then laughed. "Yours! Yeah, sure buddy. You had dibs." She nudged Alice. "Told ya it'd be funny if we waited for him to get his ass kicked first."

"HEY!" Wheatley pointed at Rita, wounded ego fueling a second wind. "That's just unfair! And cruel! What if it had eaten me? What if I was eaten by a candle while you two just watched and ate popcorn? I thought you, uh, we were heroes!"

His grandstanding didn't seem to impress Rita at all, who walked right up to Wheatley and somehow managed to look down at him even though he was taller. It was something in her gaze that did it. "You such a hero, next time don't walk right past a victim in trouble, Beanpole. That zombie-lookin' guy? You know Witches eat 'em, right?"

They did what? Wheatley felt the color drain from his face, and he cleared his throat. "Oh, uh...well, of course I knew that. I just figured that...I mean, I didn't, um, in my careful calculations..."

Rita just snorted and turned away again. "Newbies. Am I right, Alice?"

"Are you right that he's a newbie? I don't know. Are you a newbie, Mister?"

"Stop calling me that!" Somewhere along the line, Wheatley's second wind had dwindled to a slight breeze, and he was suddenly aware of how tired and sore the fight had left him. He let his transformation revert, and Rita smirked.

"Newbie, got it. Look, I'm gonna give you this because you're kinda cute, as far as doofy guys go." Rita slipped a piece of paper into his hand, and he opened it up. It was a number.

"...Oh!" His mood improved immediately. "Is this your...?"

Rita stared at him for a moment and then laughed, a full guffaw with hands on hips. "See, Alice? Everyone wants me. Nah, that's the number you text if you wanna get in contact with the Queen."

Bravely withstanding the pain of another crushing blow to his ego, Wheatley looked back down at the number and wrinkled his forehead. "Wait, Queen? We've got a Queen?"

"She calls herself that, anyway. You wanna know anything about anything, give her a text. She'll meet with ya for a consultation. How do you think we got that good?" Rita examined her fingernails as she let her own transformation revert, revealing a baseball cap, jacket and old jeans. "I mean, I was an expert from the start, but even I benefited from a few pointers. She's a...kind of a scientific sort, I guess. You know, nerd powers. You should know, you look like a nerd."

"I am not a nerd," Wheatley mumbled as he adjusted his glasses, and slumped. "Oi, fine, I'll look her up. And...figure out how to get home from here." He hadn't thought about that. "To the Theater district..."

"Just straight along 21st Street and take a left. Seeya, Nerd." Rita waved over her shoulder and ran back towards Alice. "So, you got the Seed, right? The Queen, she doesn't really like late payments..."

Exhaustion hit Wheatley in full once he no longer had anyone to talk to, and he leaned against a wall, looking at his Soul Gem again. It was a bit clouded, but not so bad when he squinted. He could always catch another Witch and get one of those Seeds to clean it tomorrow after school. As it was, he was supposed to have finished an essay he'd no doubt have to slam through in the wee hours of the morning, and he'd forgotten to eat dinner.

"Trickier than I thought, this magical stuff. She made it look easy, too. Shows what a pro she is, I guess! That...that girl in the orange." He dug his hands in his pockets as he slumped back off. "Good thing if anyone mugs me I can just go all superhero again, yeah? And where the devil did Kyubey go anyway?"

* * *

"Go away."

"That's a strange reaction to have. Aren't you curious as to what I am?" Kyubey sat on the edge of a bed, peering at its inhabitant.

"Fact: I'm dreaming you. This is a stupid dream. You're a Pokemon. Espeon, #196."

"...I don't even know what that is."

The boy peered at Kyubey through bleary eyes, and then slammed his head back on the pillow. "Fact: I need to have more logical dreams."


	3. I know when I'm not wanted

"How can you deny the reality of something right in front of you?"

Craig Wilson could do just that very well. He wasn't going to acknowledge a waking dream brought on by staying up too late. He walked to school with his headphones cranked up and yet the little creature which did not exist kept talking to him over it. The fact that the thing wasn't moving his lips was further proof of his impossibility.

"If you saw me, Craig, it means you were meant to meet me. It's fate."

The boy stopped and glared down at the creature. "Fact: fate is a construct. It isn't real and neither are you." He walked briskly along, trying not to think about the fact that he was trying to outrun a hallucination.

And there it was again, the little creature with long ears, standing right in front of him on the sidewalk. Craig knew it couldn't exist. None of the other passerby were looking at it, and the sighting of a new species in broad daylight would surely arouse some kind of commotion.

"Fact," the creature parroted. "If you dismiss me, you'll always be left wondering if I was real after all, and if so, what the implications of that fact are."

"Fact: No I won't." Craig felt heat rise to his cheeks and ears as he realized people might see him talking to nothing. He felt stupid talking to it at all. But no one seemed to notice, much to his relief.

"I chose to appear before you for a reason, Craig Wilson. There's something you want that you can't get otherwise, isn't there? You call me impossible, but what you want is also impossible."

Craig stood still for a moment and then shook his head. "No! No, I'm not engaging...myself in some introspective back-and-forth between my subconscious. There's nothing I need. Good day, Sylveon." Feeling incredibly foolish, he started walking on again. He wouldn't tarnish a perfect attendance record due to a waking dream.

"Don't you have a wish to make?"

He stopped again. No, wishes were useless. No, there was no way this creature could exist. Perhaps he was still dreaming, having finally fallen asleep after a restless night. It was one of those odd dreams where he was sure he'd already woken up. Which meant, logically, that nothing he did had any consequence.

"Okay." Craig turned to face the creature who didn't exist. "Let us say, theoretically, I had a wish. What would that mean?"

* * *

The moment Chell saw a flash of platinum-white hair in the crowd, she sucked in a breath and hoped it was just a very short old woman. Of course it wasn't. For someone so vocal about hating Chell, "Glados" certainly knew how to find Chell at the worst moments.

"So." Sure enough, Glados stepped out in front of Chell on the sidewalk, wearing her hair in plaited braids. She had a white and gold coat and a red scarf around her neck. Petite and feminine, Glados looked like a perfectly normal girl if one didn't look too hard at her gold eyes.

Chell sidestepped Glados and kept on walking, but something grabbed her hand behind her. "Hey...!" She pulled away and glared at Glados, who was holding a purple marker and mock-pouting.

"You're so rude. And responsible for the death of my favorite magical girl, but we've been over that recently. "I came all the way out here out of the kindness of my heart to give you important information. But it's fine, I know when I'm not wanted. I'll just give it to someone else." She tossed one of her braids back over her shoulder.

Chell counted off on her fingers. "I'm stupid, I'm boorish, I'm fat. One of those?" She figured she could at least save them both time. The White Queen had a few favorite insults she clung to like a puppy's worn toy.

Glados waved a mittened hand. "Oh, that just goes without saying. At least you know you're a terrible person. I mean, you do know that. How you're a terrible person. But that has nothing to do with what I was going to tell you. I mean I don't go out of my way to tell you the obvious." She cleared her throat. "Wheatley Elliot Johnson. He resides at 113 64th Street, at the Apple Hill apartment complex. His phone number is-Oh! Well, that got your attention."

Indeed it had. Chell was staring at Glados, hands clenched and white-knuckled. Glados fancied herself a hacker and had numerous other ways of finding personal information on those she chose to target.

"I thought so. You were going to abandon him to die, but you can't bring yourself to do that because heaven forbid you pass up the chance for an adoring follower. I don't know which is more abhorrent. Here." Before Chell could stop her Glados grabbed her hand again and used the purple pen to write something in her palm. "There's his phone number. I suspect he'll join the Court soon enough, if he's got enough brains for basic self-preservation. I mean, we've already contacted him and all. But I like seeing you try and fail to make new friends." A moment later and she'd disappeared back into the crowd of commuters, leaving Chell staring at her hand halfway on her way to school and feeling like an idiot.

It wasn't her problem. He _wasn't her problem. _And even if he'd started out cheerful and optimistic, she knew how it would go. She knew how things would progress whether she was there or not, and she didn't want to have to watch it again.

She sighed, pulled out her phone and started texting as she walked through a puddle. At least she could justify it to herself as a practical move. He was a barrier-user. She'd rather have a defensive magical boy as an ally than an opponent, especially since there was no way in hell Rita would team up with her again.

Pausing, she sniffed the smeared purple ink.

Was that a _permanent marker?_

* * *

It took waking up extra-early, sneaking a Diet Coke from the fridge for breakfast, and staggering to school half-asleep. Wheatley, an expert in last-minute work, managed to hammer out and turn in an essay on time. He saw his refusal to fall asleep during math class as proof of his growing sense of discipline, and rewarded himself with a nap through geography. The day felt surreal, and not just because he was sleep-walking through it. Everything was different, and yet not. He was in the same classes with the same classmates who threw paper at the back of his head or snickered at him when he slumped over his desk in exhaustion, the same geography teacher who shot him a dirty look for that nap, on the same run-down Catholic school he'd been attending for a year and a half now. Until yesterday, he'd assumed the biggest change he'd experience in the near future would be entering high school in the fall.

Of course, how could he have predicted all of this?

Tried as he could, he couldn't stop thinking about that girl in the orange dress. Maybe she really didn't want anything to do with him. What sort of things could 'important' mean? During his lunch period, as he idly devoured a meal of rubbery chicken sandwich, he went over every way in which one person might be important to another. Friend . Significant other. Enemy. Rival. Relative. Responsibility. Burden.

"Couldn't possible be her enemy," he mumbled to himself. "I mean, obviously the Witch-monsters are and I'm not one of those. But burden...I'd hate that! Man alive, that'd be the worst. I'm already a burden." With grandparents too old to take care of him, he'd been passed on to his uncle after the death of his parents. "I mean, thinking she'd only be giving me the time of day because she's obligated...I get enough of that."

If what Kyubey had said was true, Chell had some powerful kind of magic, and he had crystals. Defensive magic, is that what it was? He hadn't even managed to fight one Witch on his own and he'd gone up against two in the last 24 hours. That was a decision he was already regretting, wishing the school hadn't banned energy drinks. He wasn't sore or worn out, but he desperately needed more sleep.

"But you know, if I master all that magic I've got, she can't call me a load! No one could. Can't get made fun of by hick Flash-wannabes, either. I mean, this should be fun! It's magic! Transformations and the like! I mean, there's that Queen lady...bet she's bossy, but at least she seems to know something. And talk." He blended what was called gravy with the obviously instant mashed potatoes in an attempt to make both edible. "Right, I could learn from the Queen and then go back and help her! I mean, my Wish was that I'd become someone important to her. That's got to mean someone impressive! Maybe I'm not now but it WILL happen, in the future!"

Imagining himself shining and bright in that silly blue tuxedo, guiding her effortlessly against a cartoonish Witch, helped him pull himself through gym class. He even ran faster and jumped higher than normal, with enough coordination to actually dribble the ball and throw it across the court. And here he thought he was too clumsy for basketball! If only he didn't loathe competitive sports.

"Still," he mused aloud as he gathered his books from his locker, "probably shouldn't go overboard. Fought two of 'em yesterday and this thing's looking a little..." He stared at the gem in the ring for a moment. "Well, not so bad! It's probably just in need of a recharge. I'll take the night off. Won't even think about this magical thing tonight after I message that Queenie. Just a nice evening by myself, catching up on sleep. Uncle probably left money for takeout. Yes, tonight I won't even think about-"

His phone buzzed and he pulled it out, staring at the message. Blood rushed to his cheeks and ears. It was her! She wanted to meet up! What would he say? Where would they meet?! He didn't even know her name! His apartment? No, too potentially creepy. Hers? No, imposing and creepy. Outside of school? Boring, and whose school? What if she turned out to be a violent sort and was actually planning on turning on him as potential competition? Rita had suggested Magi were competitive, after all. What if...oh, of course! He knew just the place.

* * *

"I just really don't understand."

Craig didn't say that often. It felt lazy. There was nothing in the world which couldn't be understood with enough effort. But what he was holding, and what he was wearing, and what had just happened made no sense. He truly didn't understand and it brought a sick, frightened feeling to his stomac

"It's magic, as I told you! If you have proof before your eyes and in your hands that magic is real, you have no choice but to accept it as a fact, right?" Kyubey looked up at Craig, distorted through the prism of a bright red Soul Gem.

The young boy sighed. "Look, this is just a lot for me to take in. Please give me a moment."

"Of course. Just remember your Contract. And don't worry, your wish will definitely come true." Kyubey leaped up onto a shelf and then seemed to leap behind it, vanishing out of sight. Craig was left sitting in his room, staring at a Soul Gem as it sent a red glow against his dark skin.

"Fact: I just made a 'contract' with a Pokemon. Kevin would get a kick out of that..." He rested his head on his folded arms. "But it's alright, isn't it? What else can I do for him? I'm his big brother. And I can only help him in dreams."

* * *

Chell really had no idea what she was doing. It had been Wheatley's idea to meet here, and he hadn't been hard to find. He was a beanpole with glasses and curly blond hair that hung over his face like a sheepdog's fur. At least she didn't have to talk very much as they waited in line at the coffee shop. Wheatley was apparently very good at doing the talking for everyone.

"So I am really glad that you got in contact with me, though I admit I'm not sure how you got my number. But that's alright! I mean I'm on Facebook too, but I don't use it very often. Man alive, am I glad you're normal. Um, by that I mean you're not...you know, you didn't lure me here and then try to trap me in the basement like some horror story from the internet! Not that I figured you would but-but what I mean is, refreshingly normal! Good-normal. I mean, all things considered what with us both being magical whatevers." Wheatley didn't seem to care about being overheard, but then, the topics of conversation were so ridiculous that ideally, no one would think much of it. "Have I completely insulted you beyond all repair yet? Because that really wasn't my intention at all..."

Chell was silent for a few seconds, and then chuckled despite herself. She waved a hand to indicate it was fine. He was a lot more nervous talking to her than he had been about using magic.

"Oh good! Good, because I'd hate to have finally found you again and then you leave thinking 'god, what a bloody loser!' It's just sort of been a while since I've spent a lot of time talking to someone new in a nice, casual setting and you're pretty." Wheatley's blue eyes widened and he turned red, looking mortified. "I just mean, you know, you're kind of pretty in a way a friend would call a friend pretty, and…"

"…Thanks. Um, we're holding up the line."

"Oh, right, right, sorry, very sorry! Um, large sized pumpkin hot chocolate, please, skim milk, extra whipped cream, try not to fill the cup up too high this time, please. Last time it splashed all over my hand, wasn't fun at all, let me tell you…no, I'm not going to use those silly Italian words! Large. The big one. Yes, thank you!"

Chell, relieved that the topic had moved off of her smile and frivolous uses of magic for the sake of vanity, ordered a mint tea. Once the two were settled, Wheatley sat across from her with an eager smile, like a puppy, and Chell realized she'd have to start the conversation no matter how much she liked talking.

"I'm sorry I walked away like that. I was just tired. I'm glad you're okay, though." She stared into her tea instead of drinking it.

"Why wouldn't I be okay? It's not so bad, really. I mean, the Witches are tough, but I'm tough, too! Not as tough as you, I mean, you're really fantastic at fighting those things…"

"Yeah." Chell was less than enthusiastic. "I sure am. Anyway, it might get rough later. It will definitely get rough later." She saw Wheatley's puppy face melt into confusion, and continued. "We're in the same boat now, and we're never getting out. I'm pretty sure the changes inflicted upon us are permanent."

"Why would we want to give it up?" Wheatley tilted his head, unaware of the fact that he was wearing a whipped cream mustache. "I mean sure, it's dangerous, but it's like riding a bike, isn't it? You keep at it and get better and better. Kind of surprised Kyubey recruits people our age to do this, I would have expected adults, maybe soldiers, but if we get a start now, we'll be amazing by the time we're adults ourselves."

Chell didn't comment on why Kyubey recruited teenagers and children, because she herself didn't know. It troubled her. She could handle it, but not everyone could. "I'm just saying, if you ever do decide you want out, well, there is no 'out.' So don't forget that." She took a sip of tea before continuing, gazing out the plate glass window at the passerby outside and the near-skeletal trees. At least talking was getting a little easier.

"Thank you for helping me. But I work alone."

As she feared, Wheatley's face fell like a stack of blocks. "Oh, oh, of course. Like Batman, although Batman still had Robin so that's a bad example! More like Spiderman, I guess. Well, I understand, I don't want to weigh you down or anything…"

"It's not that!" Chell realized she was raising her voice, and stopped short. "It's not that. I worked with a partner once. A few, actually. It went poorly and I don't want it to end that way again/"

The tall boy sat up. "Again?"

Crap, that had just slipped out. "Caroline. Her name was Caroline. I used to work with her and Rita, under Glados, actually. I even used to get along okay with Glados back then." She was thankful for the calming mint tea, as it was hard to stay composed when talking about this with anyone. "I opened those portals and attacked from a range, Rita was all offense, and Caroline was a healer. She couldn't fight very well on her own. We just _found _her one day after we fought a Witch, just like that." She couldn't bring herself to talk about it much further, or to look into Wheatley's eyes to see his reaction.

He was quiet for a few seconds, at least, and when he spoke, his voice was softer. "Caroline…there was a Caroline Whitney in my class who died a few months after I transferred in. Didn't know her very well. They said it was all quite sudden and horrible, brain injury from a soccer match." She could see his big hands fidgeting in his lap. "That wasn't it, was it."

"She did play soccer." Chell still didn't want to make eye contact, because she didn't want to cry in front of Wheatley of all people, so instead she stared at the mural on the walls. "Rita blamed me because I was always telling her to focus on her healing instead of learning any good offensive skills, in case she was caught on her own. I was kind of bossy, back then. I quit working with Glados and her White Court." She finally managed to look back at his stunned blue eyes. She had just revealed that people died in their line of work; best he learn about it sooner rather than later.

Wheatley was silent for a long time, and his puppy-like mannerisms were gone. "I know I could die," he finally answered. "I almost did die, yesterday, I just pretended otherwise. Kyubey said last night that humans are good at lying to ourselves and believing it. So don't think that just because I'm all cheerful, I'm not taking it seriously or anything. I am. It's new and a bit scary and I'm not sure what I'm in for, so I've been hoping for anyone I could talk to about it. Like you. I don't know what it is, but I feel more comfortable, just overall braver around you. You're just that kind of person, maybe because you were so brave when I saw you fight. I had no idea you were scared at all."

Great, she realized. It was what she thought it was. What a stupid, stupid wish. She blushed at the compliment despite herself, and it irritated her.

"Glados contacted you, didn't she?"

"Um, yes. I'm meeting up with her tomorrow." Wheatley had the good graces to look sheepish. "I didn't realize the two of you had a bad history. I really hope this doesn't sour things between us! I mean, I guess-I guess what I'm saying is I'd like to be friends even if you don't want a partner."

Chell sighed. "Look, it's alright. I have my own reasons for opposing her that have nothing to do with you. If you join up with her, I'll understand." She peered at him over her tea. "But it means we might be enemies. We'll be at odds except when facing Witches, because I want nothing to do with her plans. She hates me."

"I see. I think I understand. Well, not exactly. It's all so complicated!" Wheatley's free hand was gripping the leg of his jeans now, as a nervous gesture, and he took a long drink of hot chocolate, triggering a coughing fit when it went down the wrong pipe. His hand let go of the mug instinctively when he covered his mouth, and the hot cocoa spilled everywhere, over the table and Chell's own sweater.

"Oh gosh, oh crumbs, I'm sorry! I'm really sorry! I did not mean to do that, it just went down too fast and it was too hot. Oh, this won't stain, will it? It'll probably stain." Wheatley stumbled to his feet and returned with handfuls of napkins, trying desperately to soak up the spilled chocolate from the table and rug. "Here, you can use these for your sweater. I'm really sorry…"

Maybe it was the ridiculousness of the situation, or the degree of tension it had just destroyed, or just relief at having had a chance to tell _someone _about Caroline who wasn't working for the White Court yet, but Chell realized she was laughing a little. She covered her own mouth to stifle it. "I'm sorry. No, it's fine, don't worry about it. I should probably get home soon, though, I don't get to spend a lot of time with my mom and I should, you know. Get changed."

"Oh, right, right, of course. I'll let you know how things go with, well, you know." Wheatley was still completely failing to clean up the mess, kneeling under the table as hot chocolate dripped onto his head. Chell used the excuse to retreat, pulling her jacket over her sweater to hide the stain. She really did not know what to think of him.

The Court was going to eat him alive.

Chapter End Notes

"I'll update it once a week!" Ha ha...haaa. No, really, I am going to try staying on schedule this time. 


	4. It's not actually a dream

"Isn't this Witch neat-looking? I mean, Witches are horrifying, but they're kind of cool, right? What do you suppose it uses that for? Or that?"

If Chell had thought Wheatley was a chatterbox, he paled in comparison to the blond in the pink harlequin outfit flinging her enormous boomerang at the pyramid-shaped form of the Witch Abigail. Alice was light on her feet and talented, clearly not a rookie, although Chell hadn't seen her around this part of the city before. She was also, in Chell's opinion, entirely too cheerful for someone fighting in the heart of a Witch Labyrinth.

"Why do you suppose they make these things anyway? I wonder why she used mushrooms?" Alice bounced right off of the cap of one of the blue mushrooms growing along the walls, doing a midair flip and catching her boomerang as if showing off. "Who are you, anyway? I don't really live around here, I'm just visiting my cousins for a couple of weeks."

Talking during a fight was something Chell generally didn't like to do, and at the moment she quite had her hands full leaping through portals to avoid the caterpillar-shaped minions the Witch sent after her. She fired a shot of light up at the pyramid, which wriggled and laughed before opening right up at the point like a package, vomiting out more caterpillar beasts. A wave of disgust ran under her skin as one of them clung to the back of her head, dripping some kind of slime through her hair.

"Oh, this is so much fun, though! Do you suppose these caterpillars will become butterflies someday? Isn't that amazing, how something can change into an entirely different creature over time?" Alice, carefree as ever, flung her boomerang through the wave of caterpillars, slicing a number of them in two. "What do you think happens if I attack the pyramid when its mouth is open?"

Of course, Chell noted to herself, there was always value in asking questions.

She opened one portal over one of the mushrooms, in a relatively safe spot, and fired upwards at the pyramid again. This time she anticipated the disgusting caterpillar rain, opening another portal beneath her feet and dropping through towards the mushrooms. It was impossible to close it before more caterpillars fell through as well, but she at least managed to close the portal on a few of them, leaving them squirming in little halves.

Alice, at least, took the cue, leaping down to the ground and spinning her boomerang rapidly in one hand until it resembled a wheel. "Wheel of Fortune! Let's see what happens when I do this!" She flung the boomerang with both hands up into the mouth of the pyramid, which sputtered and shrieked, opening up all the way like a grotesque flower before melting into nothingness.

As the Labyrinth cleared to reveal the dark corner of a park where it had materialized, Alice stretched her arms and laughed. "Wasn't that so much fun? I love fighting Witches and Familiars. What's the difference between a Witch and a Familiar, anyway?"

"A Witch is a Familiar which has taken a life." Chell stated the facts without much emotion, because it was easier that way. She didn't like to think about the degree to which she depended on Witches existing. She tried to tell herself that Witches would exist either way, and by hunting them like this, she at least minimized their casualties. She tried to tell herself a lot of things. "I think that's all, anyway."

"Oh." For a moment, Alice's cheer faded, and she stared up at the late afternoon sky. "I wonder if that's where all the Witches came from?"

"…Of course it is. Where else would they come from?" Witches spawned Familiars, Familiars became Witches. It was a cycle.

"I'm just wondering." Alice rocked back and forth on her heels. "I live downtown in the Harbor district. I hunt as many Familiars as I can there, because I don't want them to hurt people. But Witches still materialize all the time. Am I just not hunting enough of them? Do Familiars reproduce themselves? Oh," she added as she picked up the Grief Seed, "do you want this?"

That was a surprise. Chell had fought along other magicians who had wandered in from time to time, but few were so willing to share. "Well, thank you, I-wait." Her eyes fell on Alice's own Soul Gem, glowing in the harlequin's hand, its pale pink looking rather more like a darker rose. "Are you sure? You look like you need it…"

For a second, Chell could swear she spotted a fracture in Alice's bright smile, but after the blond vigorously shook her head, it was gone, much like smoothed-over makeup. "No, it's fine! It's not too bad. I'll go hunt another Witch if I need to. You have it. I insist."

It didn't feel right, but on the other hand, Chell had passed up on a Grief Seed herself the other day when Wheatley unexpectedly jumped to her side. She felt guilty as the Seed restored her Gem to a vivid sunset orange, while Alice's remained a little dim. "Thank you," she mumbled.

Alice just grinned again, her magician outfit dissolving in pink light to reveal overalls and a pink t-shirt. "Say," she added, "what do you think happens if we don't…you know what? Nevermind, I should get going." Was that another makeup crack in her voice? Before Chell could ask further, Alice had already spun around and was heading back to wherever she'd come from with a little wave. "Thanks for the help!"

Chell's eyes fell back on that Soul Gem of hers, rubbing sweat off of her forehead. She'd have to come up with another story to tell her mom to explain why she was an hour late returning from school. Maybe she could stop at the market to pick up something for dessert, in order to make it up to her.

Every so often, Chell went over a theoretical conversation in her mind, one in which she confided everything in her mom, everything that had been going on for the past year and a half. Whenever she got to the part where her mother would react, the scene would freeze, falling apart like warped film.

* * *

As Wheatley exited the school building, something inside of him pulsed and writhed.

"What-what was that?!" He leaned against the stone wall around the campus, realizing others were staring, and carefully turned away from them, waving a hand. "Um, nothing, nothing, just a little bit of a headache, that's all, don't worry about me!" He half-ran, half-staggered until he could get away from the crowds leaving school for the day, and out of what felt like instinct, pulled out his Soul Gem. It was pulsing, and flickered brighter as he started walking down the street. He felt as if he were on autopilot, letting the blue light and some odd sense tugging at his mind lead him towards…a wall.

It was just a wall in the back of an art store. In fact, it was the same art store he'd waited by in the rain just a few days ago. How much had changed since then in so little time!

"…That's where one of those things is, isn't it?" It was a gut feeling, his magic telling him something. "There's a Witch in there. And I'm talking to myself again." He slapped his forehead, looked around, and took a deep breath. "Uh, Kyubey? No chance you'd like to show up and give me some advice? Last time I tried doing this it didn't work out so well. Got unfairly tricked, I did..."

He could just walk away from it, pretended he hadn't seen this one. He wasn't really ready to face another Witch yet, was he? His plan was to strengthen himself and then go pro, so to speak. There were other magicians, magical girls and boys or whatever they might call themselves. They'd take care of the problem.

And he'd never grow any stronger, and Glados would declare him a failure for sure, someone who should just give up right away. After all, who becomes a superhero and does nothing with it?

"…Alright, well, whatever's in there, you'd better be ready for me!" A pillar of blue light surrounded him, and he emerged transformed, slipping through the circular gate leading to the Witch's personal zone. "And please, please don't be full of cake. Please don't be disgusting this time, would you?"

He stumbled into a cavern where walls dripped with still wet-paint that pooled at his feet, swirling in every color he could imagine. It bubbled and flowed like lava, splashing against the stone walls of tunnels that seemed to extend forever in four directions. "Mmmm-hmm." Wheatley sighed. "Bloody disgusting." He could hear a sloshing sound as he lifted his soaked boots. "Do I have to wash out these transformation clothes? They were such a nice shade of blue, too..."

He spotted a figure ahead of him, and without any other kind of landmark, rushed towards the stranger, who whipped around the moment the splash of long legs signaled his arrival. It wasn't Chell, or Rita, for that matter. He knew this person in a red, hooded cloak and mask, he was sure of it, though he had to look through the mask to remember where he'd seen the other magician.

"…Wait, aren't you the class president!?"

"What!?" Craig's eyes widened, his hands clutched around a scarlet hammer that dripped with five different colors of paint. "You're…I don't care who you are, get the Hell out of my nightmare!"

"Okay, um, look, mate, it's not actually a dream. I know it sounds and looks like a dream, the really freaky kind you can't even completely remember fully when you wake up? And you wonder how you didn't even know it was a dream because you do things like fly and ride a dog to town without thinking about it? But this is in fact happening, we are in fact knee-deep in what I hope is paint, and, um, you have a little…blue right there." Wheatley indicated his own left cheek with his hand. Craig ignored it as he swung that scarlet hammer of his through a basketball-sized ball of paint with a fiendishly happy face on it.

"Nope. None of this is happening. You can't convince me. There is absolutely nothing logical about this entire scenario," the Eighth Grade Class President of St. Aperture Catholic School loudly insisted as he slogged through a river of bubbling tempera paint. "Fact: paint doesn't flow through volcanic caverns. Fact: little creatures don't grant wishes. Fact: I am pretty sure that waterfall," he indicated with a point, "is flowing up, which is physically impossible. Even if you allow for the existence of magic wish-granting creatures and superheroes, it does not explain a violation of the laws of physics."

Another happy paint blob monster leaped up at Wheatley, and he let out an undignified yelp as he pulled the floating crystal he controlled down upon the thing, splattering it. It left him colored like a bad tie-dye shirt, but it did feel good actually hitting something on his own for once. Even if he was using what appeared to be a ranged weapon as a dull blunt object. "Um, well, see it if you want to, I guess. So, you're a magician too then, eh? Small world, isn't it? I really had no idea you had other hobbies outside of Student Government, I assumed that took up most of your time…"

"This, um. This is actually my first time out. You know, in the hypothetical situation where this is actually happening," Craig added, pulling his hood up further around his face. "Which it is not." His costume made him look rather like a male Red Riding Hood, Wheatley observed, though he managed not to point that out.

* * *

It wasn't happening, of course. Craig knew exactly where all of these dream elements were coming from. The little creature was something from a video game. In fact, so was this entire scenario. The rainbow cavern brought to mind a dungeon level from Mario, right down to jumping blobs of paint lava. Craig had read numerous books on dreams and knew they were pulled from the subconscious. This was his subconscious's way of telling him he needed to play fewer video games.

It didn't explain the presence of a classmate, though. Why would Craig dream about him? Said classmate was standing with his chest puffed out, looking rather ridiculous in a blue tuxedo and tails with a little hat but apparently more confident about the situation.

And for the life of him, Craig could not remember his name. Oh dear.

"Oh. Ohh, well, that's okay! You've got me here, now, I'm a seasoned pro. I'll guide you right through. Piece o'cake, these Witch hunts, don't know how much Kyubey told you but he does tend to just throw a guy right into things, the little jerk. But no worries! I've got your back, I'll show you the ropes." The other boy grinned confidently. The thing Kyubey had called a Soul Gem pinged, and Craig ignored it. He knew what it meant and was a bit too confused to care.

"Well. That's something, anyway. I would appreciate some help," Craig admitted, stopping to try to squeeze burnt sienna out of his sleeve. His mind raced to try to remember who that kid was. He knew the taller boy went to his school. Tall and thin, particularly in comparison to Craig's short and heavyset frame, with curly hair styled back and thick-framed glasses. He'd even be cute if he could learn how to dress himself and didn't carry himself like such an awkward flamingo. The height was notable, the accent unmistakable. Tall white British kid, tall white British kid. What was his damn name?!

He swung the hammer over his shoulder casually. It should have been far too heavy for a non-athlete like Craig to carry, but in his arms it felt light as a feather. 'Gravitational magic' is what Kyubey had called it. It was only as heavy as he needed it to be. He looked back at-Walter? Willy? It was some w-name, wasn't it? Something a bit odd, too. Whitney? There were men named Whitney, right? Well, whoever the boy was, he was staring at Craig.

"Something wrong? You're staring at me like I have…paint on my face, right." Craig sighed, turning down yet another tunnel. "Well, Kyubey told me this was a Witch, and if I didn't go in to kill it, it would…" He abruptly stopped for a moment, shaking his head. "It would do something terrible, that's all. Well, whatever, it's all nonsense, but it's nice to have someone I can trust. You're, um. Wally, right?"

"Wheatley," the taller boy answered immediately, "but you know, close! Close enough. We only have geometry together, and the same lunch period, and we were in the same homeroom last year when I transferred in and had to introduce myself and didn't realize my uniform jacket was on inside out. So really, I'm glad you didn't remember that!" He puffed in his chest as the two approached a door apparently drawn into a cave wall with charcoal. "Well, mate, this might be where that Witch actually is. Don't you worry, like I said! Just hang behind ol' Wheatley, he knows exactly what he's doing." He attempted to kick the 'doors' open, only to find that the wall was, in fact, a wall, and quite a hard one at that. It wasn't very pleasant for his left foot, which he held with both hands. "Ow ow ow, bloody fake door! Damn Witches…"

Oh, good. He'd already managed to alienate his first possible ally. Besides, forgetting the name of a fellow student in homeroom was a terrible transgression for a member of Student Government! After silently scolding himself, Craig leaned in to where Wheatley had kicked and rubbed a hand over his chin before remembering the hand had green paint on it. "You made a good crack, though. Let me try to finish it off. It's like a video game. Hidden doors reveal themselves when you break walls." He took a step back, resisting the urge to hum a 'Zelda' theme. For a dream, this was actually a lot of fun. It took one long, hard swing with the hammer to smash the weak point in the door right open.

"Fact: I really shouldn't be able to swing this hammer. This is too weird..."

* * *

Craig's shows of prowess and confidence earned a stare from Wheatley. Where was the awkward stumbling around with powers not yet understood? Craig was even less experienced than he himself was, and yet he wasn't falling all over himself barely able to use the weapon Kyubey had given him. It made something inside of him burn a little, something deep in his guts. Of course, he reminded himself, Craig was also a good student. Not a 'late bloomer,' as his mother used to call him with gentle affection.

He'd long ago realized that 'late bloomer' was a nice way of saying 'underachiever.'

Of course, he couldn't let that insecurity show in front of Craig. The other boy's face was masked and hooded, but Wheatley didn't need to see his face to realize he was at the very least in denial. Denial could lead to panic, and panic could get them both killed. He was, very technically, the most experienced magician present, and he had volunteered to take the lead. "Well, good, good, for a start, anyway. I guess it is a little like a video game, right? I thought those big smiley things looked like the fireballs that jump out of the lava in Mario games. Right, no wasting time!" He started marching rather dramatically through the new opening, towards what he hoped was the main chamber. "Onward to _oh my gosh."_

The main chamber was a huge hollow cavern with a conical shape, suggesting the inside of a volcano. The Witch, what he assumed had to be the Witch, filled most of the chamber with its sheer size. It resembled a child's pastel drawing of a bee, with a long, multicolored abdomen and entirely too many legs coming out of its thorax. Its face tilted back and forth rhythmically, and enormous wigs beat around it with a sound like thunder. A comically tiny crown sat upon its head.

**Odette**

**The Artist Witch**

Craig sputtered, pointing upwards at the Witch's swollen body. "That is completely impossible! Something like that is impossible! Its body is too heavy to be supported! Certainly nothing with an exoskeleton can get that size! It violates the Square-Cube Law. And it shouldn't be able to fly."

Wheatley turned to stare at Craig, tilting his head a little. "We're facing a giant bloody paint-bee-thing and what bothers you is that it _violates the laws of physics?"_

"Look," Craig snapped, "if I focus on how comically impossible this situation is, I don't think about how terrifying it is. Let me have this, okay?"

The taller boy fell quiet, suddenly feeling like a bit of a heel. Craig really was just as scared as he was, perhaps moreso, since Wheatley himself at least had seen a Witch taken down. At least he knew there was an endgame, that fights like this ended with the combatants alive and the Witch a harmless little trinket. During that first fight of his, he wasn't sure if what he was witnessing wasn't the end of the world.

So Craig clearly needed him to be brave, and anyway, it felt good to pretend to be courageous even if he was lying. "Don't worry, mate, this one shouldn't be hard! I reckon it's C-class, maybe B-class at best-WHOA!" He sprung up in a high leap to avoid the wave of pencils the bee shot from its stinger, each one long as a spear, while Craig ran low through the paint lake bubbling beneath them. "Careful, mate! Just keep moving and don't let up hitting it! That's-that'll be our strategy, yes! Hit it and don't get hit!"

As he descended, he summoned two more crystal orbs, leaving him with three of them surrounding him. "Alright," he mumbled to himself, "no pretty girl to help me out here, guess I'd best figure out what exactly these are meant to do…" He swept an arm forward and a spear of crystal shot out from the sphere, sweeping against the queen bee's fat body. "Good! Good, I can in fact hit the broad side of a barn, that's good to know…"

The bee, furious at the gash the crystal had left, turned to aim its stinger directly at Wheatley, who quite suddenly realized he was facing that stinger a few inches from his face. "Oh come ON-" His incoming rant at the injustice of being in such a predicament was cut short by the unearthly screech of the Witch as something pummeled it from behind, slamming it into one of the walls and stunning it.

Craig dropped from his high leap and landed, with just the hint of a smile. "It shouldn't be possible for me to jump that high," he helpfully informed Wheatley. "But I guess I can. I knew it was a dream. You can always do impossible stuff in dreams. Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Wheatley tried to hide how sore he was at being saved by the even newer guy. "Yeah, mate, I'm fine, thanks. Just biding my time! Just waiting for the perfect time to attack…"

"I think it really hates being attacked there," Craig helpfully suggested, pointing to the back of the thorax. "It must be a weak spot. I knew this was like a video game…"

"Ah, brilliant! Good idea, we'll concentrate on that spot when we can oh gosh it's awake again." Sure enough, the Witch had revived itself, hovering furiously and giving off a thunderous hum. The hum seemed to call forth those blobs from the paint itself, an entire wave of the grinning, cackling things splashing together to form a wave aimed right at Craig.

"-Oh, mate, watch out!" Without really thinking, he jumped in front of the class president, crossing his arms in front of him and just trembling as he waited for whatever came next. The hit never came, however, and when he opened his eyes, he understood why. Paint was sliding right off of a blue glass window hovering in front of him. No, not glass. It was crystal. His crystals had flattened in front of him, and reshaped themselves into their orb form now that he was safe.

"…It's a barrier," he marveled. "I mean, um," he added with an awkward glance at Craig, "see that? That's a barrier! A mighty nice shield, really. Bit of a shame you probably can't do that, but we all have our talents and weaknesses, I'm sure you'll figure yours out soon."

Craig was looking a little stunned and pale, but nodded. "Thanks, Wheatley." He had to pause to catch his breath, probably more from the shock than anything else. No one who could leap that high could get winded so easily. "Hey, listen," he added, eyes lighting up, "I have a plan! It seems to only use projectile attacks. You can use that barrier to protect yourself and try to get it to focus fire on you, and I'll try to hit it from behind with, well, I guess just a strong attack to finish it off…"

"Oh, yes, good plan!" Wheatley snapped in the air and beamed. "Perfect plan, wish I'd thought of it, you distract it and I-wait, you want _me _to be the distraction?! Are you trying to get me killed?! I voted for you! I mean, no, that's a lie, I didn't vote because I couldn't really decide, but I decided later I would have voted for you!"

"Calm down. You have the barrier," Craig reminded him. "I don't think I can do that. I'll make sure it doesn't get time to break through. I promise." Something in the determination in Craig's eyes was awfully convincing. "Just because I'm dreaming doesn't mean I'll let anything happen to one of my classmates."

Wheatley wanted to refuse, to run, to hide, to admit that he really wasn't a pro at anything and that the barrier was probably a fluke, even if he was sure he could reproduce it. But he had to admit, he didn't have a better plan. "Okay, fine, let me just get its stupid attention…HEY!" He cupped his hands around his mouth as he called up to the Witch, and then pointed to fire a laser from one of the crystals. "Hey, you up there! Your big maze or whatever it is? Completely disgusting! I don't know what you think you're doing here, but I never want to see a drop of paint again for the rest of my life, thanks to you!"

It probably didn't matter what he said, because the Witch reacted to the laser beam burning its abdomen immediately. Wheatley didn't hesitate, forming a crystal barrier in front of him immediately before the barrage of pencils could launch. On a whim, and largely out of panic, he managed to create a second and then a third layer to his shield, wincing and trembling as he watched pencil spears crash right into the crystal and shatter. Each and every one of those pencils could impale him in seconds.

But the barrier held. This must have been his power. Appropriately for a coward, he had a nearly impenetrable shield.

"Libra Gravitation!"

Something large, hammer-shaped and immaterial came down on the Witch from behind, slamming it down with full force. Wheatley caught sight of Craig, hovering for a moment, moving his arms as if swinging an invisible hammer downwards. The creature seemed pinned down for a few seconds, and then outright exploded, splashing a veritable tsunami of paint in every direction that flooded the entire chamber, submerging both boys for a second.

Wheatley gasped for air as the flood subsided, slumping against the back wall of the store. He glanced down at Craig, who seemed just as overwhelmed, though both were completely dry and clean. Somehow, with the absurdity of the situation, he couldn't help but laugh out loud. His laugh was obnoxious and nasal, but he didn't care, not right now.

Even Craig chuckled a bit, covering his mouth as the two of them both reverted to their ordinary clothes. "Fact: you have to call out the names of your attacks. It's just how things are done. But that was-that was completely ridiculous! It was a boss battle from a video game, like I said. This dream is absolutely ridiculous." He leaned against the wall and sighed, holding his hand out where a red Soul Gem gleamed. "Completely ridiculous! I've been working too hard, I think…" He looked up at Wheatley. "Oh, thanks, by the way. I'm really glad you were there to help."

Wheatley had stopped laughing, and as much as he hated himself for it, what Craig had just admitted distracted him. Again, Craig seemed to know his magic intuitively. He was able to cast some kind of gravity spell on his first time out, when it took Wheatley several battles to even realize he had a shield. A damn barrier. In fact, in both of the fights he'd had against Witches, he'd needed someone else to help him.

Late bloomer.

"Uh, right," he added quickly, sounding a little distracted. "Anytime, mate. Actually, you know what? I'm going to contact someone soon to get some more information about this whole gig, I can pass on her information if you want. They say she's a real pro, even more experienced than I am, might be able to help you out." He reached into his backpack and tore off a piece of notebook paper, and copied the e-mail address Rita had given him. "Up to you, of course…"

Chell would have to wait, that was all. Glados could actually help him, and then he'd actually be able to help Chell.

Craig accepted the e-mail without commentary, looking distracted himself as he bent down to pick up a small object. "Hey, um, what is this?"

Wheatley recognized the Grief Seed and slapped his forehead. "Oh, that! How could I forget about that? We need those to keep our little, um, what is it, Gem Crystals or whatever they're called clean, I guess. Not sure why, but it's important! So if you don't mind…" He was about to ask Craig to hand it over, when he remembered what Chell did for him after his first fight.

She really wouldn't approve of him keeping it to himself. If he could tell her later how he helped a newbie, and one with more skill and a better GPA than himself no less, how proud she'd be of him!

"Um, you know what, mate? You can have it. Just tap it to your Gem until all the shadowy stuff goes away. It just gets that way when we exert ourselves. I'll…" He glanced at his own Gem, which looked a little dimmer than it did before, and quickly clasped his hand around it so he didn't have to look at it. "I'll be just fine, okay?"

"Are you sure?" Craig seemed to pick up on the process relatively quickly, the smudge fading from his red Gem. Then he looked up at Wheatley, that pointed, serious look back in his eyes. "Hey, thanks. I mean it. I still think this is probably a weird dream, but it's nice that I had someone to help me out through it. That shop, my family owns it, so…yeah, thanks. I'm sorry I never learned your name."

Wheatley rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, it's fine, mate, you're hardly the only one. I guess I'll see you at school on Monday? Or, you know, sooner, if we talk to that person…"

"Um, yeah, sure." Craig nodded, voice a little dull now, and started to walk off as if in a daze. Poor guy, Wheatley thought, it's all hitting him, isn't it?

A memory flickered of endless waves of spears, crashing against a weakening barrier, each large enough to impale him through and keep going.

His adrenaline drained, Wheatley shuddered and leaned against the wall as he remembered the giant monster, the nightmarish tree, Kyubey's unblinking gaze. He held his Soul Gem to his chest to calm himself and slow his heartbeat as it all hit _him._

* * *

"Mom?" Craig did his best to steady his own voice as he entered the store, trying to pretend nothing was wrong. "Dad? Someone's in here, right? Since it's unlocked…"

It was awfully quiet, but he could see the door to the back room open. It sounded like his mother was on the phone, and there was something off in her voice. His dad was behind the counter, and as Craig approached, the big man wiped a hand from his eyes as if to hide crying.

"-Dad? Dad, what's wrong?! Is Kevin…?"

"The hospital just called. He made a full recovery, practically overnight. It's some kind of miracle." His father half-laughed, half-cried and picked Craig right up in a hug. "He's going to be okay…!"

And only then, in his father's embrace, as he overheard his mother crying tears of joy as she called aunts and uncles, did Craig really suspect that any of this was real.

* * *

Chell had managed to get home early enough that she had actual time to spend with her mom, but the woman was still a little distant. _She knows me too well, _she thought. _She always knew when something was up, except now I can't tell her about it. _Marie had enough to deal with anyway, with…well, Dad. Or the lack of Dad.

Marie had hugged her and asked her about her day, and Chell made up a story about helping a girl named Alice find her way back to the subway station. They shared the small pineapple cake she'd picked up from a bakery, and watched one of those idol shows together, but she was sure Marie could feel the same discomfort she did. The coming home late, the reports of missing the occasional class or skipping school, surely Marie had to know about them.

_She probably thinks I'm acting out because of Dad._

In her room that night, she pulled up that boy's e-mail address and stared at an empty e-mail window. 'Hey, listen, I'm sorry that-' Delete. 'Hey, look, I know this is scary, but-' Delete. 'Hey, I don't know how much you know about any of this, but-' Delete.

'Hey. It's Chell.'

She hit send, feeling like a complete idiot, and not just because of her poor communication skills. What exactly was she doing? Drawing another person into her web of disasters? Glados was venomous, but at least magicians who worked by her side stayed alive. Chell just sucked people in to her tornado of a life until they were thrown out the other side, leaving her alone again. It was just what happened.

What a stupid goddamn wish.

A little icon flashed, indicating a new message in her inbox. She anticipated the boy's overly wordy, clumsily-typed reply full of tangents and rambling or worse, gratitude and admiration, but that wasn't his e-mail. No, she knew who that was.

_Hey Disaster Girl, just wanted to let you know that I'm going to be presenting some very important information to anyone who wants it a week from Sunday, through a demonstration. I've even extended the courtesy of an invitation to you, which I am sure you're aware that you do not deserve. Because you are a monster. Come if you want or don't, I don't care, but I wouldn't miss this. It's going to be great. I think you'll love the surprise._

_-G_

* * *

"You want your worst enemy to see your experiment? How bold," Kyubey remarked as he sat on Glados's shoulder.

She just chuckled, rubbing the soft fur between his ears with a finger. "It's rude to read over people's shoulders, Kyubey. Here you go, hot chocolate." She reached over to the takeout container next to her, pulling out a small paper cup and lifting the cover for him.

Kyubey beamed as much as he ever did, leaping down and lapping up whipped cream with his tongue. "Delicious! Oh, your courier is here."

"I ain't your courier, rat," Rita hissed as she landed on the roof, tossing a black object Glados's way. "Here, it's what you asked for. Goddamn, coulda sworn there were three Witches in the area in one day, I had my damn pick. What's with the frequency lately? I got other things to do sometimes!" She stretched and yawned. "Well, whatever. More fun for me! But I keep the next Seed, okay?"

"Of course, of course." Glados caught the Grief Seed and used it to clear the shadows from her Gem until it shone brilliant white, tossing the empty shell for Kyubey to retrieve as he always did. "Anyway, I suspect we'll be seeing a new Witch Saturday night, if my calculations are correct and no one interferes with that Familiar by Broad Street. Or you know, kill it while it's still a Familiar, if you feel like playing hero." She raised an eyebrow, and Rita looked a little uncomfortable for a moment. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Whatever, it's all yours either way, I have work to do."

"Right, right." Rita rubbed the back of her neck, looking out on the cityscape and shivering a little. "Man, it's getting cold! Are you really gonna spend the whole night up here? I mean, at least find a hotel room or something. I don't want you to freeze or nothin'…be a shoddy bodyguard or knight or whatever if I let a lady freeze."

Oh, she thought, that's right. It's probably cold for people who can still feel that.

"Thanks for the concern, but really, I'm fine. Mind your own business, Rita." She handwaved to dismiss the girl in green, who just snorted and took off again. Late November. She could at least remember the feel of early winter winds, even if she hadn't felt them in such a long time.

It was all worth it. Anything was worth living forever.


	5. They'll ruin you

"Why are you looking so blue?" Kyubey might have been cracking a joke, as the blue light of the Soul Gem was illuminating his face as he sat on the desk. He leaned over to sip from the dish of milk Wheatley had given him, and if he were insulted at being thought of like a cat, he showed no sign.

Wheatley sighed and stared into reheated shrimp fried rice. "Well, it's kind of you to show concern. I don't know, it's just, that other kid, he was moving about like he was some kind of natural. And Chell and Rita, they fight like experts. I could attribute their skill to experience, but Craig is as new as I am! Newer! So what's wrong with me, then?"

Kyubey tilted his head. "Different kinds of magic work different ways. Craig hasn't worked out all of his powers yet, either. Besides, he was able to put his fear aside because he'd convinced himself the situation was not real. You humans are very odd sometimes, able to lie to yourselves and believe it." He swallowed another mouthful of milk and licked his lips. "Even I can't fully control how magic manifests itself in people. It forms according to your personality, your nature, and your desires, and it can be shaped by your wish."

"Barriers, is it…" Wheatley stared at his hand. "Well, hardly epic or heroic, but I guess it'll keep me alive."

"That's probably why you have defensive magic, then!" Kyubey flicked his tail. "You're a coward who is afraid of getting hurt, so you manifested a power to protect your body. You can learn how to use it offensively too, to hurt an enemy rather than slow it down."

Not particularly hungry, Wheatley set the fried rice aside, making a mental note to put it back in the fridge. "You really aren't very good at cheering a fellow up, mate. Although I guess it did keep me alive, so I should be thankful of that." He sighed, picking up the Soul Gem. "Is this really all magic is good for, though? Fighting things? I thought, you know, I could use it to create illusions, do spectacular things, cure my nearsightnedness…"

"You could fix your eyes," Kyubey interrupted.

That got his attention, and he sat back up straight. "What, really? I've been nearsighted since, well, since as long as I can remember! There's pictures of me as a toddler with glasses. I know they have that laser surgery business, but I didn't think I could get it until I was an adult, and it's expensive anyway." He felt guilty enough about attending a school as nice as St. Aperture, but his parents had written in their will that his inheritance be used to help him attend a good school.

"Magic can be used for all kinds of things, although if you overuse it, your Soul Gem will darken quickly. You can use it to cure your body's illnesses and repair damage." A strange way to put it, Wheatley thought, but it was Kyubey. He might think of wounds as 'damage.' "Major uses of magic require you to transform, but something as simple as fixing myopia and astigmatism shouldn't take too much. I'm surprised you haven't tried already."

Wheatley eagerly picked up the blue gem, trying to command it with his mind. Its light flared for a moment, and some of that same light shone into his eyes while he felt the curious sensation of static in his brain. When the light cleared, his vision was distorted and twisted as if looking through a funhouse mirror, and the dissonance was rapidly giving him a headache.

"What, I-did you trick me?! Did I do this wrong? Bloody magic. Now my eyes are broken, aren't they?…"

"Try taking off your glasses," Kyubey suggested.

Wheatley was still for a second, and then laughed awkwardly. "Knew that! I knew that. I was just making a joke. Of course." Once he removed the glasses his eyes no longer needed, his vision cleared, better and sharper than it had ever been before even when he'd worn glasses. He held his hand out in front of his eyes and then gazed around the room, marveling. "…Tremendous. Bloody tremendous! You know how much the surgery to fix that costs? And the gem's only a little bit smudgier, you can barely tell! I mean, I had better hope for a Witch in the next few days, but even so…" He laughed again, images of the violent battle from before finally fading from his mind. "This is good. This is really good. I mean I had my doubts, but this is amazing stuff. Can I really change anything about myself? Make myself look a little better, maybe try to ensure I start growing at a normal rate instead of like a corn stalk…"

"Don't worry about growing. It won't be a problem." Kyubey's answer was a bit cryptic, but Wheatley was a bit too enamoured of his new power to care.

"I mean, I'm not even tired! You've got to understand mate, I had no idea anything like this existed. Fight a few monsters in return? Sure! I bet it's fun once you get the hang of it. I just won't die. That's all. Just won't die. It's fine, I handled a few already. I can handle anything else they throw at me…"

"Good! That will keep you alive." Kyubey didn't comment on Wheatley's surge of confidence, as expected, and leaped off into a shadow again. The boy was preoccupied with marveling at his reflection in the mirror, glasses-free.

"Yes! Yes. You know, I really do think I'm better this way. If you hate the way you are, why not change it?"

* * *

It was raining the day of his meeting with 'Glados', the kind of cold, clammy rain of early winter. The so-called White Queen still insisted on meeting outside in the park, where it smelled like decaying leaves. Wheatley pulled his jacket tightly around himself and shivered, his sneakers covered in mud. Beside him, Craig sneezed, half-buried in a rain coat. "Thanks again for the help the other day," the latter said, as a form of greeting.

"Oh, uh, no problem, mate," Wheatley answered, distracted by his own discomfort. Couldn't this White Court meet in a parking garage, or somewhere dry?

"I knew you were lying about all the expert stuff, but it's okay."

"Wait, what?!" Wheatley flushed red, looking at Craig with a mixture of indignation and horror. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know." Craig sounded distracted now, looking downwards. "I can tell when something is factual or a lie now. It's like something flickers in my head, and I think it makes my Gem light up if someone lies, too. Kyubey said it was part of my magic. You were setting my detector off like whoa. It's okay, though. You were probably lying to help me feel better. Just please don't lie again."

"Wasn't lying."

Something red flashed in Craig's hands. "See? Lie."

"…Fine." Wheatley didn't want to say much else on the topic, though he made a mental note to be careful about any kind of boasting around Craig in the future. A leaf blew past his face, and he shivered. "You know, I half wonder if they made us wait out here as a prank. They're all inside eating cake and laughing because they're watching us shiver on a webcam, like some kind of hazing ritual. Oh, let's see how long they'll stand out there in the bloody rain! I'll catch a cold, and I'll have to fight a Witch with a cold, unless I can cure that now…"

"Don't worry," a flat voice reassured him from behind. "catching a cold would be the least of your problems." Wheatley startled and spun around, looking down to where a girl stood about a head below him, eerie golden eyes peering out from beneath a head of long white hair. Her skin was pale to the point of appearing sickly, and though she appeared no older than they, the look in her eyes somehow didn't fit her age. She was wearing a raincoat, too, but he could see something white and glowing inside one of her hands.

"…White Queen?"

"The same. That's just a nickname, though. You can call me Glados, which is another nickname, because I'm not telling you my real name. You don't deserve it." 'Glados' paused to apply what looked like cherry lip gloss before continuing, seemingly unconcerned about the effect the pouring rain was having on the two boys. "Wheatley Johnson, Craig Wilson, am I correct?"

"Uh, yeah," Wheatley answered, while Craig just nodded. Both stared at the petite girl in the yellow and white raincoat as she set up a small white umbrella and a small plastic tarp, sat herself down cross-legged beneath the umbrella, and pulled out a notebook computer.

"I don't want to get it wet," she explained.

"Yes, wouldn't want to get wet. That would be terrible. Wouldn't it, Craig?"

"Did you bring another umbrella, by any chance?" Craig didn't sound very hopeful on that front.

"No." The White Queen typed for a few moments, and then looked up at the two boys again, still sitting down. "Okay, let me explain myself. I call the magicians who work with me the White Court, though that's really just a formality, a way of identifying ourselves. You're a magician, and you can easily mess up, and if you mess up, you'll die. Period. I know, because I've seen lots of us die in the past. But if you listen to me, and do as I say, and follow my advice, you're much more likely to live longer because my research will keep you alive."

"So you're something like a teacher, then?" Craig had his hands open and his Soul Gem exposed, and Wheatley caught on just what the other boy was doing. If there was a flash of light, it meant she was lying. "This is a class for magicians."

"Not exactly, but if it makes sense to you that way, you can think of it like that. Kyubey finds us and makes contracts with us, and just leaves us to make do from there. He gives advice sometimes, but there are a lot of things he won't tell you unless he has to, because he's a little jerk. I've been at this for a while, however, and I've learned plenty of things, both through research and field experience."

Wheatley was skeptical of this somehow. How could she be so experienced if she was the same age they were? Chell was something of a veteran but she seemed only slightly less in the dark than he. He glanced to Craig's Gem, however, seeing no sign of a flicker. Truth, if the Gem was to be trusted.

"In fact, to show how confident I am in my own knowledge, I'll give you a trial lesson. You don't even need to join up with me. I'll just ask for some payment afterwards. Nothing dire, no money or anything, just a favor for a favor." Glados glanced up at the two over her laptop, expression unreadable. "Or you can take your chances stumbling over yourselves learning on the field and hoping the little space rat decides to tell you what to do before you die. Up to you, no skin off my back."

Wheatley gave a questioning shrug at Craig, who just shook his head. "It's up to you," the latter said, "although for what it's worth, she seems to be telling the truth so far."

He remembered Chell's warning, that being Glados's ally would make him Chell's enemy. But this wasn't an official alliance, not yet. This was just a trial run. And he really needed to know something about what was happening to him, something beyond the little tidbits of information Kyubey would occasionally offer. He hungered for knowledge, and knowledge would make his magic stronger. It would make him stronger. Strong enough to be of use to Chell.

"Well, alright, just one little trial lesson, nothing binding, right? I mean, what harm can it do?" Wheatley shrugged, managing his most casual smile.

"Good." Glados smiled like a cat with a mouse in its mouth, and stood back up. "It's something you're going to want to know about. You," she indicated Wheatley, "with the stupid puppy expression. Hold up your Soul Gem."

"What, like this?" He held his Gem in his palm for them all to see, its blue light pulsing beneath just a touch of shadow. It was a bit murky, he noticed, but probably fine. Glados pulled his hand down to examine it, and nodded to herself.

"Good, not too much shadow. One Grief Seed and you should be fine for a while. So you know about maintaining it, anyway. I'm about to show you why. Kyubey probably made you think that it's the source of your magic, right?"

"Isn't it something like that?" Craig was looking into his Gem now, which still didn't indicate any lies as far as Wheatley could tell. "I still think all of this magic stuff is impossible, but I woke up this morning and my brother was still okay again, and I still had this. So it must be true, which means I just have to rethink what's a fact and a lie. But Kyubey said I needed to keep this by my side if I want to keep my magic."

"He wasn't lying, just omitting information." Glados rolled her eyes, the sarcasm in her voice clashing with her youthful appearance, and turned back to Wheatley. "You look like you have a good throwing arm. I want you to throw your Gem as far as you can, towards that pile of leaves over there." She pointed to a heap of fallen leaves, sodden in the rain.

"Wait, wait, I was told to take good care of this!" Wheatley hesitated, clinging to his Gem. "Won't it break or something if I throw it? Oh, wait. This is a test, right? You're supposed to order me to do something silly and I'm not supposed to do it to prove I've got good sense! Clever, very clever."

"It's a lot more durable than you think, trust me. Just throw it as far as you can towards the leaf pile, and then start walking the opposite way. You'll get the point soon enough." Glados crossed her arms. "And don't take too long, okay?"

"Fine, fine, lady, fine. You're a really bossy teacher, you know that?" Wheatley had never been very good at throwing things, but with this new body, perhaps he might be able to show off a bit. He mimicked a pitcher at a ball game, throwing his blue Gem as it landed just short of the leaf pile. It was thankfully intact, as far as he could tell from that distance.

"Right, just like that. Now start walking in the opposite direction and keep at it until I tell you to stop."

Agreeing, Wheatley started sloshing through the muddy grass away from the Gem, mumbling to himself. "Still don't see the point of this, I half suspect you're just making us do things to see if we'll do them, for your own jollies, just making a fool of the lads! If Craig there didn't have an instant lie detector I'd swear that was the case. Here I was at least hoping you'd teach me how to make my outfit a little cooler, or do some neat kind of flashy attack like Craig did, or…!"

Wheatley's world went dark.

* * *

It wasn't like waking up. There was the sensation of air rushing back into his lungs, and the world coming back into focus, his heart beating faster than it should and his whole body tingling and numb. He coughed in shock, still lying on the ground, an echo in his ears fading into the sound of Craig in panic.

"…did you do? What the HELL did you do?!" Craig was kneeling next to him, hands shaking, holding one of Wheatley's wrists. "He was! You were! You just!"

"Calm down." That was Glados's voice. "At least give the moron some breathing room. He'll be fine." She peered down to face Wheatley, who was still on his side. "Do you really just do anything anyone tells you to do? That's not a good way to go through life."

"You said I had to do it for the lesson." Wheatley's voice was dull and he still felt lightheaded, sitting up slowly and dimly aware of the fact that he was covered in mud. "Did I pass out? It just suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe, all the air sucked out of my lungs, and I thought maybe it was asthma which I don't have, and then I didn't…think anything." His Soul Gem was back by his side again, glowing and intact.

"You were." Craig took a deep breath, and Wheatley noticed the smudges around the other boys' eyes. "You were dead."

"…What?"

"Dead. You just fell over all at once, and I grabbed your hand to check your pulse, and it was cold. No pulse, no breathing, pupils dilated. You. Were. Dead." Craig staggered back, looking nauseous. "This is a lie, it has to be, why isn't it flickering? You can't be here now. Whatever just happened, it killed you…!"

Wheatley, struck into rare silence, stared down at his hand and reached for his pulse. It was there, as usual, a little accelerated from what he guessed was shock. Then he turned to Glados, eyes still wide, still silent.

"It's fine," the girl said indifferently, back at her laptop. "Go ahead and freak out. Everyone does at first. You get used to the idea after a while. Just keep your Soul Gem next to your body and don't think about it."

That wasn't enough for Craig, who marched over to the white-haired girl. "What. Did. You. Do?!"

"Nothing. I did absolutely nothing. I just told him to separate his Soul Gem from his body. When the Gem is too far away, it can't control the body, so that happens." Glados sighed through her nose. "Look, I'll lay it out for you in nice, simple terms, because frankly there's no delicate way to deliver the news. That," she said as she pointed at the blue Soul Gem, "is you. That," she pointed up to Wheatley, who still felt a bit queasy, "is your body, which you control."

Both boys stared at Glados with a mixture of confusion and horror, and she continued. "When you contracted with Kyubey, he sucked your mind and soul out of your body and put it in a Gem. He didn't mention this because as lovable as he can be, he is horrible, and also because people tend to react to the premise the way you're reacting now, by looking like you need to throw up."

It was a pretty sharp assessment of his reaction, Wheatley noted.

"So what are we?" Craig stared at his hands. "We don't have souls anymore? They're in our…is that why they're called…oh God, how is this even possible? You're lying, right…?" He stared down at his own Gem, and Wheatley only had to watch Craig's face to know that it wasn't a lie.

"So," the taller boy finally managed, "we're dead…?"

"No," Glados snapped, "we are not dead, nor are we zombies or anything. We're just different. You noticed you were stronger and more durable now, right, and that you can sometimes alter your body or heal it? That's because it's basically a puppet you're controlling from your Gem. You're seeing and feeling out of it, and it can eat and sleep, but your life's in that Gem. You'll never again contract an illness, and you could be torn limb from limb and be revived as long as your Gem's intact. You could lose every drop of blood and you'll be fine." She smiled for the first time since their conversation started. "You're not dead. You're immortal, if you play your cards right."

"And bodies in stasis don't grow, right? And if we lose our Gems, we die and rot. And more importantly…" Wheatley's hands shook. "This isn't what I bloody wanted! When I thought about changing, becoming someone else, this isn't what I meant!" His voice was cracking, and he didn't care. "I don't want to be immortal! I don't want all this strength and speed and whatnot if it means I'm a bloody soul in a jar like some kind of monster!" He staggered back, leaning against a tree for balance. "It's monstrous, isn't it? It's monstrous…"

Craig didn't take his eyes off of his Gem. "Science hasn't even proven the existence of the soul or any kind of life force. A body is a body, that's all. It shouldn't be possible to…oh, I give up. What do I tell my parents when they notice I'm not aging or growing anymore? How do I explain this to them? They'll notice, parents notice things…"

"You don't explain it. I think it's possible to alter the body to age it, but it strikes me as pointless. Frankly you'll be lucky if you survive in this business long enough for people to notice. By the way, Kyubey wouldn't have told you otherwise. Some mages have lived and died without ever knowing they were basically walking corpses." Nothing about Glados's voice was remotely reassuring, but the sneer was gone, at least. "You walk around like a human, feel like a human, have a much stronger pain tolerance and physical capabilities, and you'll never catch anything from kissing or whatever." She made a disgusted face. "You know, a lot of people would give their souls to be a super teenager. Anyway, I'll leave you to deal with this new information, but I'll mention one more thing. People who work for me know a lot more than those who run around ignorant. I trade in information, and information will keep you alive. Well, as alive as any of us are."

She stood and picked up the laptop, holding the umbrella back over her head. "Wait," she added, "one mooore thing. I mentioned payment, right? Both of you bring me one Grief Seed sometime in the upcoming week. You can find me on the roof of the St. Aperture gymnasium, or you can just e-mail me if you want to meet up somewhere else, but I need those Grief Seeds. If you don't pay up, you'll really regret it." She turned around to leave, shoes sloshing in the mud. "Think about my offer, though. Membership is a good idea."

The two boys were left in the rain, Wheatley slumped against the tree, Craig kneeling now and still staring into his Gem. "It doesn't make any sense. No one should be able to do that." The class president's voice was shaking. "What does this mean for us?" He laughed, though it was hoarse and sad. "You know what my wish was, too? I wished for my brother to have a good future so he could become an astronaut or whatever it was he wanted to be when he grew up. I wanted to make sure he lived to grow up. Since he was always sick and…" The red light glinted against the gray of the rainy sky. "I'd say I traded one future for another, but there's no such thing as predetermined fate. I-it's worth it, I'm sure. It'll be okay." He choked back a sob, and then looked over at Wheatley. "What about you? What did you wish for? Do you think it's worth it, now…?"

Wheatley was silent for a very long time. He thought of Chell's eyes, the determination in her gaze that drew him in the first place, the way he felt like more of a fool around her, and the way she seemed to pull him in only to push him away. How inscrutable she was in her own way, quiet when he was too talkative, graceful when he was a clumsy oaf, everything he wished he was in ways that left him as confused and jealous as intrigued. He imagined the sight of his own body, lifeless, dull eyes half-open as his entire soul, mind, his very SELF sat in a tiny blue jar.

"I don't know, mate. I don't know. I think I need to get back, you know, before we catch cold. Well, you know, except that we won't catch cold because our bodies aren't…well, you know." He walked off in the rain, wrapping his arms around his chest, for once glad to feel the wet chill. The dead couldn't feel cold, after all.

* * *

The Witch was fond of the ocean, apparently. Sure, the ocean was pink in this case, and the fish had entirely too many eyes. The starfish minions each had little hands extending from their arms, which grabbed at Chell as she descended from a portal to aim her gun at the clamshell hiding the Witch.

It didn't feel like she was underwater. She'd entered labyrinths that felt like swimming through mud, but although the sky shimmered like the surface of the ocean, and the familiars swam in the air, gravity worked normally for her. It was just as well. Unfortunately, the Witch itself kept hiding inside of its clamshell every time she had a clear shot.

A hand grabbed at her hair and she screamed, whipping around to fire a shot of light right at the eye in the starfish's core. The familiar screeched and burst into bubbles, but the attack brought the attention of several more of them. She leaped up into a portal to escape an attack from all sides, landing closer to the big clam just as it started to open. Finally, a chance to get a shot in at the Witch itself…

"Hold on, hold on, I've got it…!"

Oh no.

Some kind of blue force was pushing against the inside of the clam, trying to jam it open. Unfortunately, this had the opposite effect, as the clam slammed itself shut in reaction and sent shattered pieces of crystal flying everywhere. As Chell knew she'd see, a lanky figure in blue was sent flying from the blowback, clinging to a piece of seaweed which then wrapped around him and began to squeeze.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me! Seaweed's not even predatory, you bloody stupid Witch! This is just the WORST! DAY! To DEAL with you and if I did not need a Grief Seed so badly, I swear…!"

Of course, it made sense. There were so many magicians concentrated in this one area of the city for some reason, they'd often end up fighting the same Witch without planning to do so. That was how she'd ended up teaming up with Alice the other day. At least she knew Wheatley wouldn't try to attack her for the Seed, but just having him around would make the battle more difficult unless she ignored his welfare. And she knew she couldn't do that.

It would have made Caroline upset.

Even watching him was a distraction she could hardly afford. She felt something loom over her, one of the enormous kelp fronds, no doubt hoping to ensnare her, too. Whipping around to fire a hole into it, she jumped back in alarm when the Familiar sprouted razor-sharp spikes along the leaf's edge before splattering.

Oh no.

Her head whipped around back to Wheatley, but she was already too late. The boy's body was limp inside of the seaweed frond, blood dripping from the edges of the leaves as the spines impaled him through. He'd died before she'd even been able to do anything. It was what she'd feared: Kyubey had drawn another innocent in over his head, for whatever reason that creature did anything, and she'd just had to watch another rookie die.

Unless.

She formed a portal, leaping through it to appear next to the frond that had Wheatley's body in its grasp. Firing off a series of light shots, she was able to shred the kelp Familiar, rushing to catch Wheatley's body as it fell towards the sand. It was hard to look at, soaked in blood, and hard to carry due to his height, but what she was looking for was still there. The jewel hanging from a chain on his belt was intact.

"Hold on," she whispered, opening a portal just one way, and shutting it behind her.

Inside she floated in the strange pocket dimension Kyubey once called "the space between spaces," though she suspected it was more than that. Usually the trip from one portal to another was so quick, she rarely had a chance to see what was in between. But she learned she could do this, stay there in that space for a little while, floating in a plane of nothingness where geometric figures bent in ways that made no sense to the human mind with angles that shouldn't have existed. The space seemed to exist endlessly in any direction, and sometimes she heard echoes too indistinguishable to make out coming from all sides. She didn't enjoy spending time in the subspace plane, but there was no place safer.

As she hoped, touching the jewel on Wheatley's wrist turned it back into its Soul Gem form, which she held against his wounded chest. It would take a lot of magic, and she hoped he had enough; his Gem was a little darker than before. Tendrils of blue light extended from the Gem to wrap his body, closing wounds, replenishing blood and even repairing his magician garb. The Gem had a darker smudge to it when it had finished, but Wheatley was intact again, slowly opening his eyes.

"Oh…it's you, isn't it? I had a terrible nightmare, we were fighting a Witch, and I thought that…" Wheatley stopped, trailing off and gazing at the Gem as he took it back into his own hands, and then looking back at Chell. Those eyes were still as wide and innocent as ever, but there was something a little fractured behind them, hollow and sad, just like the smudge of shadow in vivid blue light.

"Body can take anything, long as the Soul Gem's intact. That's what she told us when we went to go see her. Guess she was right! Bloody brilliant on Kyubey's part, isn't it? Giving us better bodies by taking us out of them…?" He was smiling, but it wasn't convincing in the least, and there were tears in the corner of his eyes.

So that was it. He'd gone to visit Glados, and as was the White Queen's favorite hobby, she'd broken the innocence of a new magician on the ground with the ugly truth. Glados never did see much use for innocence. It was Caroline all over again, in a different way. Chell was going to watch an idealist slowly crumble until her smile was just a mask.

Not this time.

"Say, where are we?" Wheatley sounded a little weakened still, and Chell suggested he hadn't fully recovered yet. "I was sure this Witch had some kind of 'under the sea' theme going on. You know, like the Disney movie? Only hideous and nightmarish. Say, do you know her?"

Chell did a double-take. "Who?"

"Her." Wheatley pointed behind them, to a place where a vertical plane seemed to run perpendicular to their own, its surface shimmering. "I could have sworn I saw someone there. She was walking around at a funny angle and wearing purple. Don't think she heard me. Huh. We should get back to the Witch, what say, and you explain this to me later? It can't be worse news than I've gotten so far. Sure I'm past the worst of it." It still didn't sound very convincing, but either way, hiding in a dimensional pocket wouldn't defeat a Witch. She took his hand and opened up her exit portal, pulling them both out into the labyrinth.

* * *

As their surroundings warped back into the parking garage where the Witch had manifested, Chell dusted sand out of her hair and looked back to Wheatley. He'd actually been of some use during the battle, thanks to those barriers he'd learned how to make, although she still had to do a lot of the heavy lifting. She didn't want to give him a hard time about it today, however. When she'd learned what had been done with her, she'd spent hours throwing up and crying, holed up in her room while her mother thought she'd taken ill. She didn't want to think of what it was doing to Wheatley, or whoever else Glados had shattered with her little 'lesson.'

Not that she could exactly blame Glados. Was it better to live knowing the truth or die without it?

"Hey, um." Wheatley had been oddly quiet during the battle, at least for him, but now he approached her again. Sure enough, there was no sign of the damage his body had taken earlier in the fight. As long as the Soul Gem was intact, the body could be healed. "Thank you. You saved my life, you know? Again. I mean, I know my body can be 'repaired' no matter what, but I couldn't exactly repair it if I was the one bleedin' out." He glanced away, a bit of redness in his cheeks. "Look, I know I'm a burden to you, I'm really no good at this. And it's my fault, really, no matter who else I try to blame. I agreed to the wish and the contract and the whole casserole without thinking about it for a second because I thought it had to be some kind of wild dream. And because I was all lightheaded over you, which isn't your fault! It's mine! And now...well, anyway, what I'm saying is that I won't keep chasing after you like a lost puppy."

Chell held her hand up, finally silencing him, and picked up the Grief Seed. She held it to his Soul Gem until the light glowed pure and blue again, the shadow extracted, and looked directly up at him.

She couldn't let Glados win again. She couldn't watch another Caroline shatter. If this boy really was in this mess because of her, because of Chell's own foolish wish, let her at least save one victim of her selfishness.

"Don't join the White Court. I know it sounds safer, but they'll ruin you." She reached up to hold his wrist, eyes still staring into his own. "We'll get stronger together, as long as I can count on you when it gets bad for me, too. Okay?"

Wheatley stared at her for a few moments, barely even noticing as his magician's outfit reverted to a soaked sweater and jacket. Then he smiled, and although the shadow was still there behind his eyes, it seemed less overpowering now. A crack was still there, but it was healing.

"…Thanks. I think I'd like that! I mean, you're in charge, of course. You're the pro. I tried being the pro the other day, didn't work so well. I was just on my way home when I detected a Witch, and honestly I knew I could have used one of those Seeds, thank you for that too by the way. And a bit of an outlet for some bad feelings, too! Which, unfortunately, are still kind of there, but you being there and saving my life has put me in a better mood. But you can count on me. Promise I'll get stronger and I won't be a burden anymore, I promise!"

He turned to walk away in an exaggerated attempt at being casual, but Chell noticed his posture slump when he thought he was out of sight. She missed that genuine goofy grin of his, and then hated herself for it, because she knew the same thing Glados knew. If he hadn't learned the awful truth, that endearing innocence would have gotten him killed. She just wouldn't let the truth break him.

* * *

"Are you mad at me, Craig?"

Craig refused to look at Kyubey, instead concentrating on his laptop. "I have homework to do. I can't talk to you right now." The best way to cope with a completely horrifying situation was to deny it entirely and focus on a project due in two weeks.

"It's foolish to be mad at me." Kyubey refused to leave Craig's bed, curling up on one of the pillows. "Your brother will be fine, just like you asked. A wish that alters reality imbalances the universe, and reality moves to compensate for it. So it's possible your long-term future might have been sacrificed so he can have one. Then again, that may not be the case at all. Nothing can be made out of nothing. Surely you know that."

"Law of conservation of mass, I know." Craig typed and continued to fail at ignoring Kyubey. "What are you getting at? I can't do anything about my situation, and I'm in it now, so there's no point in being angry, and I am absolutely not angry." His Gem flashed brightly. "Damn it."

"Your wish probably won't affect more than you or your family, but someone has made a wish so imbalancing that it will threaten the entire city within the next year. I'm telling you because you have your head on straight. Do with that information what you will."

"What?!" Craig stopped his typing and turned slowly towards the bed, but Kyubey, having said his piece, was gone.


End file.
